Insanitytale
by kayixu
Summary: He'd expected this to go the same way it always went. For longer than most cared to remember, nothing really changed in the end. But suddenly something was different. Something disrupted the routine. Now, with this newfound determination, he intends to break the cycle they're all trapped in.
1. Prologue

A certain skeleton's eye sockets gazed thoughtfully at a chess piece. It was quiet in his abode, the only sound being the ticking of the clock. He glanced at the wall where it hung. Odd, he'd thought…. Well, maybe there was still time. He went back to staring at the game before him. His opponent began tapping their claws on the coffee table, and he at last decided.

It seemed his opponent had not been expecting the move. They looked over the chessboard and quickly moved one of the pieces. After his turn, _they_ took their time. The skeleton monster waited patiently. The other monster raised a paw, completely focused. Everything froze for a moment.

He ignored the pause in time. Was there enough left to finish the game? It was his turn again. The game went on fairly quickly from that point. Skillfully, he cornered his opponent, but they were doing well too. He nearly growled with irritation upon realizing how close this would be.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick.

Silence.

It lasted for a full two of what would be seconds. Again he ignored it. "Your move," he said.

The other seemed to have noticed too. They too, ignored it and took their turn. "Check."

Tick tock.

Silence.

For seven phantom seconds, they were frozen in time. Both were surprised. Why was there another pause so soon? The two didn't bother to question it for long. There was no point. He carefully examined the board. With an emotion somewhat like happiness, he finished the game.

"Check mate."

Toriel sighed. "One day, I'm going to beat you, Papyrus."

Satisfied that he was able to finish the game, he replied, "you probably will. You literally have forever to practice."

"We both do," Toriel said, her tone dark.

Twenty phantom second pause.

"Well, here we go."

The goat-like monster nodded slightly. "Nearly time to die. Again."


	2. The Definition of Normal

Chapter One: The Definition of Normal

The year of peace had been wonderful, but now it was the Other's turn. Papyrus stood in his room, reflecting on the situation. How many Resets had there been since his human friend first entered the Underground? He dismissed the thought. It didn't matter, he reminded himself as he exited the room.

In the back of his mind, he realized that he probably didn't _want_ to know. As he ambled down the stairs, a multitude of noises began assaulting his metaphorical ears. Sans was playing that "music" again. He walked to the living room to find several odd looking skulls levitating in front of the couch.

The skulls' eye sockets glowed orange, as did their mouths with each sound that came from them. There must've been around fifteen of the things, working together to create what many called music. Papyrus called it annoying.

He stood in the entranceway, glaring at his brother, who was dressed entirely in purple. Aside from the orange cape. Sans didn't look away from the skulls, didn't have to to sense Papyrus's intimidating aura. The smaller of the two monsters let the magical instruments dissipate while his eye sockets lost their orange glow.

Papyrus had told his brother several times not to be playing that so called "music" when he was around to hear it. Deciding not to begin another rant, he simply asked, "are you hungry?"

"No…."

"Well, I'm going to have breakfast. After that I'm going for a walk, and you can make all the noise you want to. Until then, _quiet_."

Sans muttered something in response that he didn't bother to listen to. Papyrus examined his mental list of all the possible dishes he could prepare. He knew exactly what he was going to cook before he even reached the kitchen.

At some point, he'd been a master chef. He'd greatly enjoyed cooking, and eaten only the most delicious and elegantly prepared food for every meal. Nothing seemed to have a taste anymore, though, so why bother? He sighed and began making a cheese omelet.

All was normal.

OoOoOoOoOo

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: humans and monsters.

One day, for unknown reasons, a war began between the two. It was the most intense and destructive event the world had seen. Blood was spilled. Dust was spread. Nature itself started to lose its balance. Earthquakes ravaged all continents and forests were reduced to ash.

Finally, came the last battle. Its outcome would decide the world's future. It seemed the monsters would win. But just before their king could kill the human ruler, a bolt of lightning shot from the chaotic sky….

They continued fighting, but were defeated soon after. The humans sealed the survivors underground with a magic spell. Over time, the existence of monsters was forgotten completely by the humans. What was once known as the Earth's greatest war disappeared into the sands of time.

The humans were left to wonder why natural disasters occurred so often.

Meanwhile, monster kind rebuilt itself. Being much more flexible creatures, they eventually thrived in their new domain. With each new generation, humans became more of a fairy tale. Traces of human civilization could be found easily. But the random objects that appeared in the underground rivers were not enough keep the surface creatures…. "Real".

There was an earthquake that not even their most powerful magic could protect them from. Their kingdom would have to be rebuilt, as much of the current one was destroyed. But the creation of what would later be called the Ruins was not the only thing that earthquake had brought.

For the first time in many thousands of years, sunlight entered the Underground. With it, came a human, with a golden flower in her hair. For some reason, she made it her mission to kill the monsters. All who encountered the human were turned into dust.

Enraged, Asriel decided he would stop her. He followed the killer all the way back to where it began. She had made a sort of base in the room with sunlight. As she sat down to eat, the room started to fill with ice magic. Chara smiled, and prepared a magical attack of her own.

But they both had quite a lot something called "Determination".

Asgore and Toriel had been preparing for a fight, all while trying to pick up the pieces of their kingdom. By the time they learned of Asriel's disappearance, it was too late to stop what was happening. In the room of sunlight, Chara exhaled her final breath as Asriel's dust fell to the ground. The magic she once used left the human, and the ground was covered with flowers.

Through their combined magic, and his extreme determination, Asriel lived.

OoOoOoOoOo

Papyrus couldn't help but feel something was off. Though he tried to ignore it, he was beginning to realize just how impossible that was. His footsteps echoed through the forest, heard by no one else. Aside from leaving to get groceries, few bothered to leave their houses during these timelines, preferring to simply wait.

There was no feeling of dread, no sense of foreboding. Just waiting. This was how things had been for a _long_ time. This was normal. He thought for a few minutes about his brother's oddly quiet behavior. Once energetic, almost hyper, Sans had become more and more withdrawn over the past fifty or so Resets.

This couldn't be what was bothering Papyrus so much. It'd been going on for so many Resets that it was just…. Normal. So what was the problem then? Annoyed, he closed his eye sockets and inhaled the freezing air.

 _Calm down. There's no sense in becoming so stressed over nothing._

 _It_ isn't _nothing. Something is different._

 _Different doesn't happen._

 _Exactly._

 _Alright. So what's different?_

 _Don't know yet._

 _Well be quiet until you figure it out._

He hardly questioned the fact that he'd just had an argument with himself. He wasn't too bothered that it'd been happening for longer than he could remember. Things were as they were. And what they were was normal. Did anyone truly remember what that word once meant? Probably not. It didn't matter anyway.

Papyrus was at last able to put the matter out of mind on his way back to the house. The walk back was uneventful, and he was pleasantly surprised that the headache inducing "music" wasn't in progress. He stepped inside and announced his presence in case Sans was still there.

What should he do now, he wondered. He'd read every book in the Underground that interested him, and watched every movie worth watching. Perhaps Toriel would like to play another game of chess. He headed for the kitchen, where he'd left his phone.

What he saw surprised him, as it certainly wasn't normal. _It_ was there. Knife in one hand, and a dusty orange cape in the other, it stared at him through Frisk's dark blue eyes. Those eyes were filled with rage. This wasn't part of the routine.

"You have something of mine." The creature spoke using his friend's voice. Before he could react, it screamed, "I want it back!"

Still in shock, he barely registered the creature's unnaturally swift movements. So confused that it was almost funny, Papyrus allowed his HP to fall to zero as the knife was removed from his chest. His mind was blank as he waited for his soul to enter its temporary resting place.

.

.

.

.

*But it refused.


	3. Awkwardness and Inspiration

Chapter Two: Awkwardness and Inspiration

"So you don't just _have_ some my power," he could hear it say. "You can use it, too."

The red magic that had filled his vision for a few moments disappeared. Whatever was happening, Papyrus found himself more irritated than anything else as the kitchen came back into view. Yes, the impossible had happened. The routine that seemed to govern the Underground's existence was just thrown out the window.

But did he have to have that momentary loss of composure?

He glared at the Other, not entirely sure where to go from here. An awkward silence persisted as he tried to make sense of the situation. He knew he could just ask how this happened. It probably knew, and for some unknown reason, it never lied.

On the other hand, he certainly didn't want any help from the Other. The two stood there staring at each other, all traces of anger gone from the human's eyes. That was another odd trait it had: constantly changing moods.

With a head tilt, it asked, "whacha thinkin' about?"

"How did I end up with this power?" Papyrus figured he might as well ask.

"I dunno. I just sensed that I didn't have it anymore, and had an idea of where it was. Frisk probably knows, but well, it's not her turn yet."

"Right," he replied dryly.

Another few seconds of quiet before, "well, I'm going back to the Ruins."

He walked past the remnants of his brother as the creature left the house. He picked up his phone, and without much thought, called Undyne. Amusement flickered in the skeleton. Of course he was calling Undyne.

"Hello?"

"You'll never guess what just happened."

"What?" Her voice had gone from distracted to practically dripping with curiosity.

"Something new. I-"

" _New?_ Different? As in, this hasn't happened before? Ohmygosh get down here and tell me. I want every detail."

"Listen. This isn't-"

"Stop talking get to my house!"

If Papyrus had eyes, he would've rolled them. He could only just recall the last time she'd been so excited. And that was when he and Sans had decided to watch a movie they hadn't previously bothered with. When she heard this, he expected her to faint.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming."

OoOoOoOoOo

The sound of falling water echoed through the caverns. The ground here was wet, and his every step created a tiny splash. It was much darker in Waterfall than most other places in the Underground. The frozen water of Snowdin reflected even the faintest amount of light, and Hotland was, well, Hotland. Papyrus hadn't seen much of the Ruins but he knew it was probably darker.

He crossed a bridge, glancing at the steadily moving water beneath it. The liquid almost looked like it was made of shadows. The only visual indication that it wasn't, was the reflected light of a few glowing crystals. He'd seen this exact area more times than he'd bothered to count.

The walk to Undyne's house was taking longer than it usually did. His pace was slow, as he reflected on every characteristic of his surroundings, as if seeing the familiar path for the first time. Papyrus tried to ignore his anxiety. The more he reflected on the situation however, the worse it became.

 _Nothing is going to change,_ he kept telling himself. _Nothing is going to change. That creature will find a way to reclaim this magic and everything will go back to normal._

 _You_ want _things to be just as they were? Trapped in an endless cycle of death?_

 _Be quiet!_

 _You're afraid, aren't you? You've become so accustomed to the routine that you're afraid of losing it._

He ignored the voice, looking up at the luminescent crystals in the ceiling. He wondered for a moment if they resembled real stars. The movies and books from the surface that he knew of had never really given them much attention. Off in the distance was the castle in which Asgore resided.

The voice in his head continued to pester him for a short time; apparently giving up by the time he reached his friend's abode. The door opened just as he neared it. Undyne, impatient as ever, began to rant about how long he'd taken to arrive. He decided to let her, as he followed her inside.

The fish monster's ramblings could easily be tuned out, as the interior of her house was truly a sight to behold. Despite the Resets, this place was decorated differently every time he visited. And it was always strange. A bright pink rug took up most of the living room floor. An orange sofa existed on top of it, and the television was upside down.

"Now then," she was saying. "Come sit down and tell me what happened. I haven't been able to write anything in so long and I need inspiration!"

He sat next to her on the sofa and started to recount the event. "I went out for a walk. When I returned, Frisk's 'Other' was already there. It killed me, but I came back. Something happened that gave me a portion of Frisk's ability. I don't know what, and _it_ doesn't know either."

Undyne's yellow eyes betrayed no emotion. She stared blankly at him, unblinking. The skeleton's previous irritation ignited once more. The staring contest with Other had been awkward enough and his anxiety was still there. Which only made his irritation worse. Nothing was supposed to faze him.

"Well?"

She finally blinked. "This. Is. Amazing! So many ideas! I-I have to go start writing!"

And with that, she ran off to her office to start typing up a new story, leaving Papyrus alone with his thoughts.


	4. An Unwanted Guest

Chapter Three: An Unwanted "Guest"

For several weeks, Undyne worked on the story, adamant that no one should read it until finished. This suited Papyrus just fine. Entertainment wasn't much of an issue. He wasn't too sure what Sans' favorite thing (or place) was, and decided that there was no point in funerals when the dead would return soon enough.

Ignoring the jar of dust, he entered his brother's room to feed Shinigami, the bat. Leaving a few slices of orange, and after seeing that she had water, he returned to the living room to read. He didn't know how many Resets ago he last read this particular book. It must've been a while, as he couldn't quite remember everything in it.

 _So, you're just going to continue on as usual? Pretend nothing happened?_

 _What is there to do? I have no idea_ how _this happened and Frisk won't be able to tell me until the Reset._

 _There must be_ someone _else who knows._

 _Regardless, I'm not going through the trouble of trying to find out._

 _Right. You're much too busy._

Tired of listening, he focused on the book. Papyrus was able to forget his problems, becoming blissfully ignorant for a few wonderful hours. He was in the middle of reading a particularly interesting part he'd forgotten about when a loud crash resounded through the house. Startled, and infuriated with himself all at once, he headed for the basement.

He stopped at the top of the stairs to turn on the light. The area below remained shrouded in darkness. After flipping the switch a few more times (as if that would somehow fix whatever was wrong with the light) he began to descend.

He had no idea what could've possibly caused the disturbance. This hadn't happened before. Or at least, not that he could remember. Silently cursing the break in normality, he looked around at the room. Just barely able to make out the toppled tower of various objects, he proceeded toward the far corner.

He reached it, still clueless as to what made it fall. The door slammed shut, leaving the room pitch black. Suddenly he thought back to his previous musings and corrected himself. The darkest place in all the Underground wasn't Waterfall. It wasn't the Ruins. It was this room right now.

And he wasn't alone.

Unnerved, the skeleton made his eye sockets glow with green magic. It didn't subdue the blanket of shadow in the slightest. If anything, the room seemed to be growing even darker. He wanted to speak, to demand that whatever was here show itself. But his voice was lost to him at the moment.

He knew this room too well to trip on something on his way to the staircase. Skipping a few steps on his way up, Papyrus reached the door. Locked. Struggling not to panic, he continued trying to turn the knob, getting the same result he'd had with the light switch. A scratching sound emanated from the somehow increasing darkness.

The memory of a key surfaced in his mind. He could faintly recall locking Sans in here a few times when he'd been more than a little ticked off at his brother. Sans had hidden the extra key somewhere in here, thus ending the occurrence. It _had_ to have been before the Resets began.

Looking for the key however, meant venturing back down. Gah. He was Papyrus, darn it! He was going to go into the anxiety-inducing shadows and find that key. No matter how safe the sliver of light coming from under the door made him feel.

Taking a quiet deep breath, he slowly made his way downstairs once more. First thing first: get a flashlight. His footsteps had never seemed so loud as he walked toward a few shelves. Whatever was in here passed right in front of him, brushing against something on a shelf and causing it to fall.

He jumped at the sound of shattering glass. Though his irritation was still present, fear overpowered it. With trembling hands, he picked up the flashlight, and pressed the button. The storage room was somewhat illuminated for a few beautiful seconds before the light flickered out. He dropped it and frantically reached for the other as the scratching picked up again.

Over and over he thought, _please let this work!_

A beam of light cut through the shadows. Papyrus breathed a sigh of relief and all was silent again. Where was that key? Where would his brother have hidden the key? The search began at the shelves, with him looking under everything the key might've been hidden beneath. No. Too easy. He would've looked there for it before.

He checked a rug, unrolling it partially and hoping to see metal reflecting the light. Not there. Another pile of miscellaneous objects crashed against the stone floor. He nearly dropped the precious light source before directing it at the area. Nothing appeared to be there, so he continued.

"Where is it?" he asked no one in particular, and became enraged at the fear in his own voice.

Hesitantly, he set the flashlight down on the floor beside him to search an old chair. No key awaited him under the cushion. Maybe it was hidden inside one the numerous holes in the piece of furniture. Halfway through scouring said holes, he found a pen, with a chewed up piece of gum stuck to it.

The flashlight was thrown across the room. It hit the wall hard, and Papyrus was blinded by the darkness that followed. He could hear the scratching again, along with things being thrown all over the place. The towers that still stood didn't for much longer. He heard the entity pass him, and turned toward it.

His eye sockets glowed for a second time since all this started. If he could just locate the thing, he could trap it. It passed by again, the chaos around him never ceasing. He heard something narrowly avoid hitting his skull. He turned and aimed the spell in the general direction the being had gone.

The most concentrated part of the storm was moving closer. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the thing. What kind of creature was unaffected by magic? Terrified, he backed up as whatever mysterious being this was drew nearer.

Papyrus tripped, falling backwards as he struggled for a decent breath. He was surrounded by a hurricane of junk before he could get to his feet. What was going to happen now? Uncertainty itself was troubling enough. Being attacked by an unknown creature, which seemed unfazed by magic?

Then, everything stopped.

All the items fell to the floor around him. The scratching had come to a halt, and the only sound that remained was that of a trembling skeleton beginning to have a panic attack. He forced himself to calm down, taking several deep breaths.

Once he was mostly recovered, from behind came, "boo!"


	5. The Cycle Continues

Chapter Four: The Cycle Continues

Laughter filled the once terrifying room and he stood and aimed his green attack at Napstablook. The ghost didn't try to avoid it. Of course. He couldn't trap the infuriating presence because it hadn't _been_ in front of him. Papyrus mentally cursed himself for being tricked by simple telekinesis.

"Oh no! A scratching sound? And things moving on their own? Oh no, there's a dangerous entity lurking in the basement! It's Paranormal Activity: Part thirty-nine! Oh no!"

Twitching with anger, he glared at the green tinted, faintly glowing ghost. "Napstablook. Just because It can't kill you, doesn't mean that _I_ can't."

Still bubbling with laughter, the response was, "go ahead."

He wanted to, so much. However, he thought of the Other, and decided against it. Papyrus took another deep breath. He'd lost control of himself more than enough times for one timeline, and would not give in to this temptation.

Letting the magic fade, he asked the question he'd been asking for the past few minutes. "Where is the key?"

A box floated toward him, and he could barely make out the word Checkers imprinted on it. "Where's Sans? I want to rub it in his face that I am the true master of pranks."

"Dead," was his reply, as he picked up the key and tossed the box aside.

Any trace of amusement disappeared from Napstablook's voice. "Already? The human never gets to this part of Snowdin so fast."

"Long story," the skeleton replied, anger remaining prevalent in his own voice. He thankfully didn't trip on his way to the stairs. The pest followed him out of the basement.

"I got time."

"I'm in no mood to speak with you. Get out."

"Aw, come on! Tell me!"

"No."

"Please," Napstablook persisted, drawing out the word as they headed for the kitchen.

"No."

"Tell me," the ghost said with an irritating tone. Papyrus didn't have to hear the words to know what would be said. "…. And I won't tell everyone in the Underground how terrified you, the _Great Papyrus_ , was."

His patience was wearing thin, and the mocking way Napstablook had referred to him certainly did nothing to help. Which was worse: harming his reputation or giving in? He sighed, figuring that at least with the latter, only he and the "Master of Pranks" would know. Napstablook did a little victory dance, as the defeated monster filled a glass with water.

OoOoOoOoOo

Snowdin was just as silent as it had been at the start of the timeline. There was but one difference: everyone was dead. Papyrus stared out the living room window, reflecting on this. Everyone was so resigned to this fate, waiting in silence for the inevitable, that the area appeared no different when there was no one left.

And he was just like the rest of them. Now though, he waited for the Reset instead of his death. Why did this have to happen? This power had so far been nothing but an inconvenience. Most in Waterfall were dust by now, and he was left feeling more alone than ever before. That stupid ghost would only bother him.

 _Well, there_ is _someone you can still talk to before Hotland's population is killed._

He was tired of these arguments with himself. Still he didn't question it, or try to remember a time without them. This particular suggestion surprised him. If he was completely honest, he had doubts about wanting things to go back to normal. A part of him was excited about the change. His anxiety overwhelmed that excitement.

But this? Could he secretly want this?

 _I will_ never _speak to her again. I don't care if this goes on for eternity, I will not have anything to do with her._

He'd sooner converse with Shinigami. The flying rodent _did_ have a certain gleam in its eyes that suggested intelligence. A movie. Papyrus would watch a movie to temporarily quell this silence, and to distract himself. There were plenty to choose from, made by monsters and humans.

As he easily pictured the contents of each one, he realized that humans must be afraid of their internal organs. All of their horror shows seemed to portray a ridiculous amount of gore. Choosing something at random, he shoved it into the VCR and pressed play. He sat on the couch, picked up the remote, and turned on the television. The hour and forty-five minutes passed by far too quickly.

A few weeks later, he would resort to playing video games. Staring at his brother's computer, he mentally debated playing this particular title. It was amazing how despite the situation, there were still things he had yet to try. What kind of game was called "Five Nights at Freddy's"?

He was pleased that no one had been around to see his reaction to the first jump scare. While it hadn't managed to truly scare him, he was startled when the robotic rabbit appeared. Papyrus didn't even blink after that when he was a half second too slow. Things were returning to the way they should be, at least somewhat.

Beating the game and its sequel didn't take long. There were many more options however, so he remained distracted for a while. Nearly a month after Asgore was killed, time froze as he was pouring milk into a bowl of cereal. So these timelines didn't last a full year. He'd always been a bit curious about that.

Putting the milk back into the fridge, Papyrus thought about the disruption of routine. Any excitement he'd felt before had died down and all he wanted was for normalcy to return. Everything halted for four phantom seconds as he stood in the kitchen.

Maybe everything _would_ be normal when the Reset finally happened. Life could continue on as though this timeline never was. He hoped to forget that any of this ever happened, like a dream. Perhaps that was all this was: a horrible, nerve-wracking dream, from which he would soon escape.

Whatever the case, a new timeline was about to begin.


	6. Only a Dream?

Chapter Five: Only a Dream?

And so, here he was again, standing exactly where he was last time. Anything that he had moved was now back in its usual place. Everyone in the Underground was going about their business like nothing ever happened. Which it hadn't. Yet.

Just as before, he ambled down the stairs. Sans wasn't playing any "music" and instead turned on the television as Papyrus entered the room. So far, everything seemed completely normal. They'd done almost the exact same thing every timeline, and every day within each timeline that they were alive. So it annoyed him that he still had to ask this question.

"Well? Do you want breakfast?"

Sans stared at the TV without really seeing it. Something was definitely on his mind. "No."

Papyrus tried convincing himself that this had nothing to do with his "dream". His brother had been acting strangely for many timelines now. This meant nothing. He went into the kitchen and made a cheese omelet. The house was pleasantly quiet as he focused on his meal.

The day continued, uneventful for a while. Toriel didn't call to tell him about what happened. Undyne didn't call to talk about her story. Frisk had yet to arrive and explain any strangeness. Sans continued to "watch" TV, silent as a pile of dust.

He dared to tell himself that the broken routine really had been nothing more than a fantasy. Papyrus did his best to ignore the question of just how that could be. With not much else to do, the skeletal monster decided to get some cleaning done. The house wasn't in dire need of it, but sweeping wasn't a bad idea.

 _Why is it you're so happy for the quiet? It bothered you during the last timeline._

 _That wasn't real,_ he argued, attempting to focus on the task at hand.

 _You can't be serious._

 _The exact same thing has happened for longer than I can remember. Why would that suddenly change?_ How _would it change?_

 _Why don't you ask Frisk?_

 _If that had really happened, then why isn't she already here?_

 _I don't know, but it_ did _happen._

 _It did not._

A lull in the dispute gave him a moment to realize all the spots he'd missed. He was furious. How could he allow himself to become distracted? Among the negative emotion was another: anxiety. Not this again. He was Papyrus. He wasn't supposed to feel any kind of fear. Well this time, he wasn't going to leave a trace of dirt on this floor.

 _Okay, so it didn't happen. You just fell into a coma and dreamt the whole thing. It was such a vivid nightmare that you didn't notice when you were killed. But don't worry. You died right on schedule._

 _Shut up._

After making sure the kitchen floor was thoroughly swept, the dining room was next. He couldn't help but wonder how many times he'd seen this exact pile of dirt. The doorbell rang amidst his cleaning of the hallway floor.

 _What's wrong,_ the voice questioned when he jumped at the sound. _Afraid you'll have to stop living in denial?_

Ignoring it, he walked to the front door and opened it, making an effort to not appear fazed. The ten-year-old human stood before him. Her dark eyes showed nervousness as usual. Her striped shirt didn't have a speck of dust on it and in her hand was a potted flower instead of a knife. This particular golden flower had a face.

"Hi," the human whispered.

"Hello," greeted Asriel.

"Frisk. Asriel. Come in."

His human friend stepped inside and he closed the door. She greeted his brother, who remained unresponsive. Papyrus waited for a sign that his dream had actually been reality. It was impossible to tell just what was going through the human's head.

When she sat down on the couch to stare at the television, he felt like gloating to the voice. He noticed that the monster-turned-flower looked annoyed, and said something to Frisk that he couldn't quite pick up. Such an occurrence didn't usually unnerve him. This time however, it did, and he was of course irritated.

He walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Everything was fine. Everything was normal. The cycle was changeless, as everyone in the underground kingdom was aware. He took a glass from the cabinet, filled it water, and proceeded to drink it.

There was something odd about this glass: something had been carved into it. The image of a music note had been scratched into the otherwise clear glass. There was something significant about this, but he was having trouble retrieving the memory. It had something to do with….

Oh. Right. The world around him disappeared as the event replayed in his mind. He'd never been so angry before or after that night. The rising star of the Underground had been the cause. Papyrus was no stranger to ire, but for a few moments that night, he had known the feeling of hatred.

It'd felt like his soul was aflame, as though all other emotions would be reduced to ash. He had never been a violent person, but this feeling? He'd wanted to make his target suffer. He'd never wanted to hurt someone so much. If he'd lost his self-control, there might have even been a death.

Death.

Such a meaningless thing.

 _Just because_ It _can't kill you, doesn't mean I can't._

At once, he was afraid. How long would it be until he acted on such impulses? How many timelines would pass before everyone was killing each other? How many more times would this same year go by before all memories made before the cycle faded? Was the Underground doomed to descend into chaos?

For some reason, he was finding that hard to accept. Frisk stepped into the kitchen, Asriel in hand. He knew exactly why they were here. The human's eyes met his lack of and out came the quiet words he'd been dreading.

"Papyrus? W-we need to talk."

"I know."

This was a dream all right. This whole situation was a bad dream. And it seemed he would never wake up.


	7. An Uncertain Future

Chapter Six: An Uncertain Future

The residents of the Underground had adapted at least somewhat to their predicament. They'd become masters of memorizing what they wanted to continue when the next timeline began. The explanation wasn't much of a surprise to him.

The most intelligent group of monsters was the Temmies, and they had devised a plan. After uncountable years of planning, they had created a Determination Extraction device. Papyrus had been at their meetings enough to know what had been planned. According to their theory, if enough of the substance could be taken from Frisk, she could be killed once and for all.

The idea that she was the cause of the problem was not a new one. It was easy to see why so many thought that way. After all, the cycle started when she arrived. Papyrus found it hard to believe that it was all merely a coincidence.

Still, the fact that they'd tried to go through with it infuriated him. To get her to agree, they'd told Frisk nothing of that plan. They had only told her that they wanted to study the rare red magic. The Reset had occurred before they could properly contain it. He'd never uttered a word of killing the human in her presence. When he did speak of the idea, it was always with anger.

Despite the likely scenario that she _was_ somehow causing this, she was his friend. He didn't want her dead. After taking another sip of hot chocolate, he told her simply not to go near the Temmies anymore. When she questioned it, he asked that she trust him.

Papyrus glanced down at his beverage with annoyance. For the longest time, he'd been able to avoid it. His ever-worsening anxiety had at last driven him back to the calming drink. He remembered needing it every day a long time ago. Would he once again become dependent? It was terrifying that everything could change after being in a loop for so long.

His brother had been watching them, looking into the room when he thought no one would notice. As the taller of the siblings again looked to the dining room entranceway, he noticed Sans' retreating figure and sighed.

"Sans, I know you're there."

"So…. I didn't just imagine it? It really happened?" He stepped into the room.

"Yes."

"Did you take care of Shinigami?"

"Yes, brother," he replied, stirring the beverage. "I took care of your pet."

Asriel face-leafed. "This is the biggest thing to happen in forever and you're worried about your bat?"

"You're surprised?" Papyrus questioned. Sans took a seat at the table.

A long minute of silence passed. Frisk quietly asked, "So what happens now?"

"Well…. Do you know if anyone killed you last time?"

She responded to the flower, "Asgore got really mad at It and killed it a few times."

He shared a glance with Asriel. Even the plant had kept quiet about the Temmies' plan. He felt relieved to hear that it'd failed. What was to come next? The unanswered question hung in the air like some kind of odor. He couldn't die, not with the human's power. It had no way of getting it back, and he certainly didn't trust the Temmie clan with it.

A ringing phone broke the silence. He answered it with a dry "hello?" just before Undyne commenced rambling.

"Hi! Is Frisk there? Did she explain everything yet? I'm working on the second draft right now and it would help if I knew exactly how-"

"Not now," he growled. "You'll just have to wait. I need some time to think."

And with that, he hung up. Leaving his phone and glass on the table, he got up and headed for the hallway. The others didn't try to stop him.

OoOoOoOoOo

Toriel had stayed behind. The kingdom needed a ruler though, and the mess that the monsters had once called home was too damaged to easily access. Monsterkind expanded farther than ever before. While Asgore saw to the rebuilding, she remained, patiently waiting for the next fallen human.

The first to arrive after Chara's death was an explorer. He'd come to their mountain in search of ancient treasures. He had been cautious when first he saw the unfamiliar beings. Cautious, but not hostile, and she had almost felt remorse for killing him.

Much like the monsters beneath their feet, humans were quite reliant on magic. It was true that they could survive without it. But the most effective way to drain that power was death. Toriel's actions were not murder. The humans were unknowingly at war with the forgotten race. Their fate was sealed the moment they fell into the shadows.

With each life taken, Asriel was one step closer to regaining his true form. Things were quiet for a while after that. She would sit in the clearing and stare upward at times. Her skilled gaze could see the barrier that kept them trapped and even from so far away, she caught sight of silhouettes every now and then.

It wasn't exactly easy to accidently fall into a gaping hole. She was willing to wait. Boss monsters could live for as long as five hundred years. It _had_ to be enough time. Two more humans came and died. She continued to observe from afar.

Another three met their demise. Each of the creatures that fell was worse than the last. They carried a cruel gleam in their eyes, and were more than willing to harm the Underground's residents. Toriel could hear them talk a few times. Voices echoed throughout her lair. It was no secret that humans went missing here.

She had wondered why no search parties ever came. Such a thought didn't last long. The surface dwellers were vile beings. They likely cared very little for one another. For a long time, she waited. Like a starving predator, she'd wasted no time when word came of a seventh.

This one was different. This human was afraid of the quiet-loving monsters of the Ruins. This human showed no trace of violence, even when the determined mother attacked. Toriel felt the fight draining from her.

 _"_ _What are you doing?"_

*Spare

 _"_ _You're not going to strike back?"_

*Spare

 _"_ _I…. I don't w-want to hurt anyone."_

 _"_ _You're_ human _! Violence is in your blood!"_

*Spare

The first one, despite posing no immediate danger, had tried to win this battle. This one simply refused to fight. At this point, her attacks were outright pathetic. This human was very young, too. And she was finding it impossible to harm her any more.

*Spare

Frisk had arrived in the Underground.


	8. The One-Worded Question

Chapter Seven: The One-Worded Question

Why?

He could very clearly recall (as he should, this state of mind having only ended a few hours prior) wanting nothing more than for things to go back to normal. His excitement in the beginning was long gone. This situation had reawakened an old problem, and at this point been far more than a mere inconvenience.

He'd given this matter some serious thought. After pondering this situation for a while, he'd come to a conclusion: that things _would_ go back to normal. It would be a new version of normal, true. But the cycle would persist. The routine would for the most part stay the same.

Frisk still couldn't stay dead. The Other still existed. The time loop was continuing. The biggest change in all this was that he could no longer have the vacation of death. From now on, he would be forced to deal with each timeline in its entirety. Aside from the increased boredom that lay ahead, everything would be the same.

 _So why does this disappoint you? It's what you wanted, isn't it?_

Papyrus kept thinking back to life before the cycle. Hazy memories flashed within his eye sockets of cooking alongside Grillby. He could see himself carefully preparing each dish with levels of enthusiasm he could no longer understand. He recalled his brother's prank wars with Napstablook and Bob. He even remembered stopping to admire Waterfall's scenery.

No, things weren't normal. Life hadn't been normal in a very long time. What he had come to accept as such was far from it. He hadn't always been trapped in an endlessly repeating routine. After so many Resets of living this way, he had begun to take comfort in it.

But why should any of that matter? It wasn't in the traditional sense, but it was _their_ normal. This was the way the Underground lived. Eventually, all memories of the word's original meaning would be lost. No one would remember anything before this started.

The Resets always brought monsterkind back, healed of any and all physical injuries made before them. The mind however, was a different matter. Papyrus knew it was impossible to break the cycle. He knew that he should simply drop the matter, just let it go and continue with his existence. It was a task he was finding almost painful to attempt.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Sans' voice came from outside his room, asking about dinner. He hadn't realized that so much time had passed. With the other two unable to properly cook for themselves, they needed him to do it. He decided to make a change. Tonight, he would not absentmindedly throw something together.

He recalled spaghetti once being his favorite dish, and chose that to prepare. He put effort into dinner. He paid close attention to every detail of the food. As he did, he hoped that its taste would elate the terrible mood he was in.

He made the sauce as perfect as he could manage, and finished each plate with a light coating of powdered cheese. The sight was nowhere near impressive. The activity had managed to distract him for a while, however, and he found upon eating that he actually did feel somewhat better.

Frisk would as usual be staying in the guest bedroom. Toriel wasn't exactly welcoming to the human. Asriel had left sometime during Papyrus' time in the kitchen, being a flower and unable to eat spaghetti. He stood in the living room, unsure of what to do. The floors had yet to be fully swept but he wasn't about to resume that right now.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

To Frisk he replied, "no. I've seen them all too recently."

His brother was remaining mostly silent, staring off into space while their human friend picked a movie. He didn't feel like making unspoken theories about the odd behavior. He'd ignored it for the many Resets it'd been going on. Why bother with it now? Besides, there was a bigger problem to think about.

Now that nothing else had his attention, the feeling was back. Why was he finding everything so hard to accept after all this time? Why was he disappointed to have just what he'd wanted? He was feeling more and more restless by the second.

Suddenly, he didn't want to spend another moment in this house. He needed some air. More importantly, he needed to do something. With a few hastily spoken words to the human and skeleton, he rushed outside. The lights emanating from neighboring houses made the area noticeably bright thanks to the reflective frozen water.

He wanted to go somewhere new. He'd seen every inch of Snowdin. He'd been everywhere in Waterfall. He could traverse Hotland blindfolded. There was but one place unfamiliar to him, and it had never been so inviting. It wasn't like Papyrus to be so impulsive, but no amount of irritation would turn his feet away from the place.

He wouldn't get there by going in the area near to Toriel's house. He didn't have an explanation to give her. His walking gradually increased in speed, as though some invisible force was giving chase. Why? Why did he feel like this? He'd wanted everything to go back to normal, and now he was disappointed that that would be the case?


	9. The First Encounter

Chapter Eight: The First Encounter

The Ruins held a surprising amount of residents. A number of froggits and whimsuns observed him from the shadows as he moved. Though the new place was appeasing this strange feeling, he wanted to be alone. He had to be careful of each step, the darkness hiding much of the debris. He nearly tripped several times.

Not yet at ease, he continued. Deeper, deeper, yet deeper still. So far away from light. So far away from life. No one lived this far in. No monster had set foot here in countless years. The soft glow of his eye sockets was the only light there was.

After being alive for far longer than any mortal should, Papyrus was feeling restless rather than tired. He could not identify what was driving him onward. He didn't know what, if anything, he was looking for. While anxiety was an emotion he was familiar with, it didn't usually stem from paranoia.

And that was the very feeling steadily overtaking him. He created a few of the skulls to help light the way. They hummed quietly, their mouths glowing like the makeshift flashlights he was using them as. Their sound also helped to break the unsettling silence. He looked warily into the blinding dark.

This was similar to Napstablook's little joke, but different. He felt as though he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, and something was glaring at him like an angry parent. He took a deep breath and continued.

After a few minutes, he found himself unable to maintain the magic light. It was not because of any lack of energy from him, or lack of magic in the still air. Papyrus knew that there was nothing here. He also knew that something certainly _was_ here. He was afraid. But this was new, and he was oddly thrilled.

Something _was_ here and it _wasn't_. It existed and did not all at once. There was a presence nearby and he was still totally alone. It was behind, then ahead. It was above and then part of the ground, reaching up. It radiated malice, and was comforting at the same time.

This creature was dark. He knew he should get away as soon as he could. His previous apprehension was fading though. A part of him was drawn to this presence, and wanted to hear its voice. So there he stood, frozen in place. He told his legs to carry him far from these shadows as fast as they possibly could. In this moment, he didn't care if anyone saw him panic.

 _Just get out of here!_

He wanted to hear the voice in his head make a sarcastic remark. The only voice that came was that of the being. He wasn't afraid. Papyrus felt more relaxed than he ever had before. Every thing about this was wrong, and it was getting worse. The whispers were faint and nonsensical, but were luring him into a trance nonetheless.

He was excited to hear what would be said.

OoOoOoOoOo

…. Wasn't he supposed to be walking _towards_ the farthest reaches of the Ruins? Then again, why should he? Whatever had compelled him to go there had disappeared. He now carried a few well-preserved books, and images flashed in his mind of setting fire to the ancient pages. That's just what he intended to do.

He was panting, and felt near collapse with exhaustion. No, he had a task to complete. Destroy these books, and then he could rest. It was too damp in the Ruins to start a fire. The same could be said for Snowdin and Waterfall.

Why did he feel so tired? And how did he even end up with these tomes? His thoughts became horribly muddled at those questions. Every step was a struggle to take. Weren't there froggits around when he'd passed by here earlier? They must've gone to their dens to sleep. Sleep…. That was such a beautiful word.

No. He couldn't sleep yet. There was something he had to do. A tiny spark of curiosity made him wonder what was contained in these books. Perhaps if he knew that, he would understand why they needed so badly to be thrown into Hotland's lava. Opening one, his bleary gaze looked to what was messily scratched out on the other side of the cover.

 _Papyrus_

 _Don't destroy them_

 _-Papyrus_

He was too tired to question it that much. He trusted himself more than this destructive mission he'd been on until now. Besides, this way he had an excuse to go straight to his house and rest. The walk was slow, the weight he was now carrying doing nothing to help his exhaustion.

At long last, his abode was in sight. Why were the lights on? Were Frisk and Sans in the middle of a movie marathon? It seemed like whatever they were watching when he left would be over by this time. What _was_ the time, anyway? He finally noticed that he'd forgotten to close the top book, and did so.

Uncomfortably bearing all three books with one arm, Papyrus opened the door and entered. He saw that the place was wreck after two seconds of looking around. How did they manage all this in only a few hours? He tried and failed again to think of what exactly happened in the Ruins as he shifted the ancient squares back into both arms.

"PAPYRUS!"

Being tackled naturally caused him to drop everything, and he cursed when one the heavy tomes landed on his foot. Sans' feet weren't even on the floor anymore, and the weight of his clinging brother came close to making him fall.

"What the heck are you doing? Get down!"

"Y-you were- you were gone and you w-weren't h-h-here and nobody could f-find you and I-I was so worried 'cause you- you disappeared and you don't-" At this point, the sobbing monster paused for an intake of air. "Y-you don't disappear it's- you- disappearing isn't s-something that y-you do and you were gone for th-three whole days and…. DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!"


	10. So Many Questions

Chapter Nine: So Many Questions

Hatred had returned to him. He'd been angry with his brother the night of his return, and sleep had only fueled the fire. The next four days were spent in seclusion, his words chasing away Sans and Frisk. His gaze often wandered to the books. Papyrus knew he should probably read them. It was the only way he'd know why they were so important.

A feeling overwhelmed his curiosity. It clouded his thoughts. He'd wanted to harm others a number of times. The idea had never previously caused him to smile. Hatred hadn't caused this before, but that wasn't what had brought this on.

No, hatred was not the cause. The skeleton could feel something else within him. A dark, twisted side of him was awake and wanted to have some "fun". The part of him that still clung to reason kept this darkness at bay. For the most part. It was unknown to him how well his roommates were eating. He'd only cooked for himself, and the others stayed away.

Mostly. Now was not one of those times. A quiet knock at his bedroom door was barely audible amidst his chaotic thoughts. How many times did he have to tell them to leave him alone? Not acting entirely by his own will, he rose from the bed, stormed over to the door, and opened it.

"What do you want?" The viciousness in his voice surprised even him.

Sans looked afraid. He couldn't help but find it funny. "J-just wanted to check on you…. And…. A-and..."

"I've already told you. Where I went is none of your business. I've also said _not_ to 'check up on me'. What part of that did you not understand?"

The shorter of the two was encased by a green glow, unable to escape. This new side of him told Papyrus to strike. The victim of his possible attack had around twenty thousand HP. Sans could take a hit or twelve. He stepped forward as he considered the notion. His brother trembled, staring at him as though he were someone else.

He at last came to his senses. Seeing his brother so terrified seemed to have snapped him out of a trance. Repulsed by his own actions, Papyrus let the spell dissipate. The evil had been driven to the farthest reaches of his mind. It remained however, he knew, and felt sick. He gripped the doorframe, overcome by a sudden dizziness.

"Papyrus? Are you okay?"

Why hadn't he tried to figure out what happened? What had caused him to become so aggressive? What could've possibly happened in those three days to make him _like_ the idea of harming his sibling? He still couldn't remember what took place, but at least now he truly questioned it.

It was almost as if something had stopped him before. What had he been under the influence of? Nothing was making sense, and suddenly there simply wasn't enough air. The dizziness refused to end. He could very faintly hear Sans' voice as his grip on the doorframe weakened. Papyrus used what strength he had to make it safely to the floor.

Echoes of a silent voice rang in his skull. So familiar, and foreign. The echoes were comforting, yet they only worsened his fear. He was able to silence them after some serious effort. Where did they come from? Did they have something to do with these events?

The pain in his chest grew with each passing moment. His vision blurred as his brother ran off to do who knew what. First the routine was broken, and now this. Escaping from an unknown being's control, and realizing the severity of the recent events was overwhelming to his frail nerves.

He was unaware of how much time went by before his vision cleared. When it did, Sans was sitting in front of him, holding a glass. Wordlessly, he was given the strangely calming beverage. Any attempt at speech would be pointless until he could breathe. So the two brothers remained silent.

The drink was nearly finished after a few minutes or so. Papyrus was left with the uncomfortable task of apologizing. It wasn't like him to admit to being wrong, to swallow his pride and acknowledge any faults. With the way he had acted since his return however, it felt like an obligation. Despite the fact that he'd not been in complete control of his actions.

"I'm sorry…. I can't truly explain my behavior." He thought about the books, and somehow he knew that they held the answer. "Not yet. I need some time to figure this out."

Sans looked relieved, and crossed the short distance of the hallway to embrace his taller sibling. Papyrus found this painfully awkward. He reluctantly set the glass on the floor and returned the hug. He didn't allow it to last for longer than two seconds before ending the display of affection.

Before reading those books, he went downstairs to prepare more hot chocolate. He was going to need it. A phone disrupted the quiet and he recognized the ringtone as one Sans had chosen. He half-listened to his brother's side of the conversation as it took place in the living room.

"Almost. I know, but…. They _will_ be, it's just that everything's been really crazy. I told you what happened last timeline, and then Papyrus…. But not anymore. Yeah, he's…. Okay, okay, I'm coming! Bye Papyrus! I'll be back later!"

The front door opened and closed before he had the chance to reply. With a sigh, he picked up the refilled glass and made his way back upstairs. He wished his brother would cease associating with that infuriating monster. He again repeated to himself what he always did whenever such thoughts would arise.

 _If he wants to deal with all that stress, then so be it. It's his decision._

Papyrus had more important things to think about. He had questions, and those books had the answers. Doubt existed in the back of his mind. Did he really want to know? Life could carry on as usual (the newly-created usual) if he and everyone else simply left the matter alone. But what about the Reset? He'd lose these mysterious holders of knowledge. In the end, he figured, why not? It wasn't like reading was going to hurt anything.


	11. Time for a Change

Chapter Ten: Time for a Change

It was amazing, Papyrus mused, how quickly everything could change. A few short days ago, his view on this whole upset had switched. Much was explained on the first few pages of the book he'd opened. He'd never thought that he would someday believe the words of the insane. But everything written made too much sense.

 _I know not if these words will ever be seen. I write them only because I know my time is near. Perhaps in the days to come, people shall become more open to the truth. If the reader of these words believes them however, I fear that it is too late. My name is Xatri. I hope this knowledge I leave behind will be useful._

Xatri the Mad. The name was familiar. Stories of the lunatic had been passed down from generation to generation. With a deep breath, Papyrus had decided to tell the others. He couldn't figure this out alone. Worry vexed him, as the time grew nearer. He told himself that he had their respect. They would accept what he was planning to reveal.

 _Will they?_

 _Of course. Now be quiet._

"Undyne's here!"

 _They will believe._

His confidence strengthened the more he repeated that. Toriel was already here, patiently waiting to find out just what was so important. Asgore wouldn't be long. Even Napstablook had shown up. The irritating ghost was visiting Undyne when she received the call.

"Shouldn't we invite-"

He interrupted Sans with, " _you_ can tell her. If she'll bother to listen."

Frisk and Asriel were playing chess, with Toriel there to explain things. Impatient as ever, the fish monster questioned what this meeting was about. Papyrus was in the middle of telling her to wait just as the Underground's king stepped inside. Everyone soon found a place to be. No turning back now.

Pushing away his doubts, he began the explanation. "As you're all aware, I was missing for a few days. I've been asked multiple times what happened. Well, even I had no clue."

"Somethin' crazy must've happened," said Napstablook.

"Yes. Speaking of that…."

 _You're about to be the next "Xatri the Mad"._

"I'm certain you've all heard the name Xatri."

"The insane person?"

He glared at his brother. "Yes, Sans. That's what he was known as. While in the Ruins, I found a few books written by him. They describe beings born from negative emotions and large quantities of magic. They can bring out the worst in people by empowering one's dark side."

"And what, dare I ask, does that have to do with anything?" Asgore's annoyed tone made the skeleton a bit hesitant to continue.

"The creatures he wrote about are real. They exist, and I encountered one in the Ruins. That's why I was so hostile upon my return."

It had been no easy task for Papyrus to recover his memories. Even now, he could only get a glimpse at what had taken place. The room was silent for a number of uncomfortable seconds. His audience appeared surprised at this new bit of information. He was relieved. Usually, there were few who didn't give the respect he wordlessly demanded.

As should be the case, considering how long he'd practiced portraying that quiet authority. Surprise turned into dread when the true severity of this set in. Beings created from negative emotions, and with the ability to bring strength to a person's dark side….

"Well…." Undyne was the first to speak, smiling nervously. Her eyes were closed while she contemplated this. "Looks like our descent into madness is happening faster than we thought."

"The books were buried in the farthest reaches of the Underground. Since these beings can interact with sentient creatures and not things, it needed me to find and destroy the books. Even after being under its control for so long, I still returned to my senses." He hated to have been under that being's control. Worse was having to admit it. "But the one I encountered and any others will gain more power."

"So why did this thing want so badly for the books to be destroyed? Why not just leave them hidden?"

He replied to the king, "Because they hold so much more than just information about these creatures. They also contain several theories on how the barrier may be broken. Escape from the Underground. Exactly what we'll have to do."

"But that's not even possible!"

"Perhaps not. If we all lose our minds, Napstablook, then so be it. We should at least _try_ to keep our sanity until that day comes."

OoOoOoOoOo

The news of all this didn't cause mass panic. In fact, word of escaping their underground prison brought optimism to many. Papyrus tried to lighten his human friend's mood. He tried repeatedly to make her understand that she was not at fault. Regardless, Frisk became even quieter in the following months.

The positivity the monsters held would keep the beings far away for now. At the start of all this, he'd wanted everything to be as it was. Now, he spent most of his time trying to create a much bigger change. He hadn't been so stressed out in a long while. Something drove him to go on. He wasn't going to lose his sanity without a fight.

Magical darkness-empowering beings seemed like it would be difficult for normal people to accept. The residents of the Underground were trapped in a time loop, however. Normal had been thrown out the window the moment of the first Reset.

What awaited them on the surface? Did the humans at last grow tired of their violent ways? Did they kill each other off? Were they affected by the Resets as well? Whatever the case, monsterkind would be able to handle it. If they could handle all that happened, they could deal with any situation.

Maybe the strangeness wasn't _entirely_ bad after all.

In the middle of reading one night, there was a knock at his bedroom door. "Come in."

Sans hesitantly entered the room. His brother was nervously fidgeting with his yellow cape. Papyrus didn't know what this was about, but had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't like it. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking…. Just in case we can't escape the Underground…. In case we all _do_ lose our minds…. I think that before that happens, you should make up."

"We _are_ getting out of here. And how many times have I told you that I will never speak to her again?"

"Seven hundred and fifty-two. But can you even remember what you're angry about?"

The memories replayed in his mind. He'd forgotten so much because of the Resets, but these memories remained clear as ever. "Yes. Now, will you let me read in peace? I only have until the end of the year to memorize all this."

"But she's your sister!"

"You may feel that way, but I don't. So drop it."

Sans looked as though he wanted to argue, but knew better. The youngest of the siblings left, looking more dejected than ever before.


	12. Knowing isn't Fun

**Sorry about the delay, stuff happened, and I didn't end up finishing in time. These next few chapters are to be from different characters' point of view.**

Chapter Eleven: Knowing isn't Fun

The lava was about two feet higher today. It never reached high enough to block anyone's path, but it was slightly higher today nonetheless. Half a year had gone by much faster than it should have. Six months from now, the Reset would happen and almost everyone would die.

Black cape flowing behind him in a rather epic manner, Sans continued on toward a building. This particular building was second in fanciness only to the castle itself. Nothing less would do. Alphys would freak out if anyone other than royalty out-fancied her.

He was a whole three minutes late. As he nervously approached the mansion's entrance, he wondered how she would react. After all, his only excuse for being so late was distraction. Mettaton opened the doors, and somehow conveyed annoyance despite the lack of a face.

"It's about time you showed up. Maybe she'll yell at _you_ now instead of me."

He found his adopted sister in one of the kitchens, licking ice cream from the scoop. Anger filled her reptilian eyes, but she was silent, which intensified his nervousness. Alphys wasn't a calm person. She was quick to anger, and made no effort to hide it from her siblings. Such an irritable nature meant that her ire wasn't usually something to fear.

The only reason he'd been so anxious was because of how much she cared about these meetings. They didn't do things…. Traditionally. She came up with the songs, and he created the music. They often met to make sure she was happy with the sound.

But this time, he was three whole minutes late. She cared so much about her role. After all, there wasn't much to keep positivity in the Underground. Sans failed to see just how being late would affect that, but knew it bothered her. Still, he hadn't been expecting her anger to be so terrifying.

He wished she'd just attack him or something. That event always ended with laughter and junk food. He realized however, that no such thing would happen. It had been a few hundred Resets since they'd played video games or had a food war. No, those things were fun.

Nothing fun ever happened anymore.

"…. Hi."

"Why are you late? You were supposed to be here at three, not three minutes past three."

Well, technically, it was four minutes past the hour now. It was precisely four minutes and eight seconds…. Nine…. Ten…. He was getting distracted again. It was kind of nice to be distracted by something different this time.

"I was thinking…."

Alphys stared at her brother for a few seconds longer, before the anger left her gaze. She tossed the scoop into the empty container and hopped down from the counter. Her pink glittery dress dragged on the floor as she approached. Once upon a time, she would never have considered wearing anything like that.

"Sans, what's wrong? You've been acting weird."

He hesitated, before asking, "Do you know how many Resets there've been?"

"No, I stopped counting a really long time ago. Why?"

"I didn't. We're almost at a hundred thousand, and I-I've just been thinking…. Is it gonna be this way forever?"

He fidgeted with his cape, no longer caring for its epicness. Alphys was quiet, taking in this information. She _had_ known the number of Resets was really high, right? So why did she seem so shocked? He'd figured anyone in the Underground could make a fairly accurate guess. Looked like he was wrong.

"I don't know. Even if we get out of here, we don't know if they'll still happen." Her voice was quiet. Hearing the normally sure-of-herself lizard so uncertain did nothing to help his fear. "But everything will be okay. Stop counting. The number doesn't matter."

He wasn't sure he could do that. Counting things was just something he did, and for some reason, he kind of wanted to keep track. The ever-increasing number was doing nothing positive for his mental health. Really though, Alphys was right. It didn't matter. He decided to try discarding the number in his mind.

Maybe he would feel better not knowing. If he simply couldn't seem to stop, he would keep it to himself. There was no reason to upset anyone, the skeleton concluded. So he agreed, letting his cape take its place behind him once more.

"Then let's go."

She acted a lot more like her usual self for the remainder of his visit. Strangely cheerful, a little paranoid, and vain. Their meeting commenced as they always did, and ended with junk food. Some things just didn't change. Like their enjoyment of doughnuts and ice cream.

What was the surface like, Sans wondered. Each movie portrayed a different scene. It was almost like the humans didn't know themselves what the outside world held. Maybe they wanted to escape from their own lives, and built a more entertaining world. If that was the case, then how bad was it up there?

Did he really want to find out?

The matter didn't concern him as much as it did others. He wasn't a seer. He'd never been able to tell what awaited him in the future. So it was odd, to say the least, that he had a feeling. He thought that it was similar to the movies he'd watched for so long.

In those displays of fantasy, a character could somehow just know. Sans believed he did, too. He didn't enjoy this knowledge in the slightest, and hoped for it not to be true. If this unspoken prediction turned out to be reality, well, he really didn't want to think about it.

He thought of visiting Napstablook. They could prank someone, as they had done hundreds of times. They could pour soap into a fountain. They could tape Undyne's shoes to the ceiling. They could call Asgore and ask if his refrigerator was running…. No. What was the point? None of those sounded like fun.

Nothing fun ever happened anymore.

As he left Hotland, Sans realized that nothing _was_ fun anymore.


	13. The Show Must Go On

**Look at the poll on my profile and vote! If you wanna.**

Chapter Twelve: The Show Must Go On

A horror movie filled the room with noises of portrayed violence. Blood pooled around the killer's most recent victim. Reptilian eyes stared unblinkingly at the scene, watching but not seeing. She'd observed these fictional events countless times. They were starting to take on a new meaning.

Clothed in a light blue nightgown, Alphys laid on her teardrop shaped bed. This plan was going to fail, wasn't it? As much as she believed in Papyrus, she doubted he could pull this off. Escape from this loop seemed impossible.

Would the Underground someday become a horror movie, where everyone was the villain? Was monsterkind doomed to follow the "Other's" example? The idea scared her more than any scene on the television. But that wasn't right. She was Alphys, the star of the Underground.

Her voice brought positivity to so many. Her songs brought light to the increasing darkness. Fear was not a thing she was supposed to feel. Fear was not something she could allow herself to show. It was up to her to keep hope alive until the bitter end. Besides, she'd never been one to let fear control her.

OoOoOoOoOo

Timeline after timeline passed, and things only got worse. She was unsure of how long it'd been, but knew that it didn't matter, so she didn't wonder. Looking around, she realized where she was. How did she wander into Snowdin?

Her feet were buried in ice. The freezing air should've felt like tiny blades in her throat. It was moments after this thought that she made another discovery: her breath didn't disturb the cold. There was no cloud at her snout, no indication that she was breathing at all. The temperature wasn't affecting her in the slightest. It was almost like….

Like….

She didn't even exist.

She knew this place. She'd been here more times than she could count. So why was everything so unfamiliar? Why did the surrounding trees look so perfectly normal, yet painfully wrong? A flicker of movement caught her attention. Something was moving just out of sight. She stared into the shadows, unable to find words.

It was dark. It was much darker than it should've been, and she knew it was time to leave. She wished she could remember how. Her legs refused to carry her away from the threat, and a feeling arose that she was far from accustomed to.

No, she was Alphys! She wasn't supposed to be helpless. She wasn't meant to be afraid of the unknown. She was supposed to face everything head on, challenge all opposition, and darn it, she was too fabulous to let anything get the best of her!

She blinked, and it was there.

Before her was a distorted humanoid figure. Its limbs were unnaturally long, and twisted to impossible angles. One moment it was made of pure darkness. The next, it seemed to have skin. She couldn't make out any details. Despite the thing being in front of her, she could not truly _see_ it. There were three things she was aware of.

One: she was completely alone with this thing. Two: it meant harm. Three: it didn't care about how fabulous she was. It went from several feet away to right in front of her. Suddenly, she regained control of her body, and ran.

The forest grew blurrier by the second. The creature was just behind. Alphys found herself still unable to make a sound, and heard her pursuer mocking her. She tripped, silently cursing her beautiful dress. A part of her was amused at this theatrical turn of events. Everyone always tripped in horror movies, at the worst possible moment.

Horror movies…. Her surroundings changed before she had time to react. A familiar tune was playing, the credits slowly crawling up the TV screen. Everything was okay, except that it wasn't. Once again, she couldn't move.

This was real, too. She opened her eyes to the sight of the creature. It seemed it was sitting on her chest, and for something made mostly of shadow, it weighed a lot. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't defend herself.

Terror seized the lizard monster, and she was for a time caught up in her internal panic. The dull, yet immense pressure on her chest made her believe she might suffocate. Her mind was a chaotic flurry of negative thoughts. If she died, she couldn't preform. She wouldn't be around at the end of the year to lighten the collective mood.

The Underground needed her and her amazing-ness. Aside from that, she found it bad enough that the human could beat her. She would not lose to this thing as well. How would that make her look? This creature would not kill her. It would not stop her from doing what she loved. No, she would beat this, whatever it was.

Alphys forced her hand to twitch. It was apparently all she'd needed. Mobility regained, she rolled off the bed. On the floor she crouched, one hand raised, pale blue electricity sparking at the sharpened tips of her claws.

But the creature was gone, and no trace of it remained.

Catching her breath, she stood and searched the room for her unknown attacker. With every moment, the whole thing seemed less and less real. She'd been dreaming when the encounter started. Was that all it was? Had she merely fallen prey to an incredibly lucid nightmare?

There was nothing here. So how had she been so convinced of the creature's existence? Was the line between reality and fiction that frail, that easily blurred, or was she simply going crazy? Was she beginning the spiral into madness?

The underground kingdom's residents had known for a while that their land would become an asylum. Dying repeatedly was not the best thing for mental health. If Papyrus' plan didn't work, if the cycle consisted for much longer, eventually no one would be able to tell the difference. What was real and what wasn't wouldn't matter.

She hoped for the best outcome. What ever happened in the far future wasn't important right now. Now, Alphys would start creating a new song. There was little time until the end of the year. Excitement stirred within her, chasing away unpleasant thoughts and feelings. This next one was going to be the best show yet.

With a faint smile, she told herself, _that's what you say every single time._


	14. An Unplanned Trip

Chapter Thirteen: An Unplanned Trip

"Sleep is for the weak," Undyne proclaimed, startling the little yellow bird on her shoulder.

Sol Azira took flight, landing nearby on one of her many perches. Vival Mina Zallerain padded silently into the office. The fish monster didn't know just what kind of animal the latter was. Vival somewhat resembled a tiny dog. Sand-colored fur covered her pet's cavernous ears.

The unknown animal walked over to her, giving Undyne a look she recognized instantly. She pushed backward from her desk and Vival took its place on her lap. Lightly stroking the creature, her attention returned to the computer screen.

Thousands of words made up the final draft of her tale. By the time of the Reset, she would know each and every page by heart. There was but one thing about the story that vexed her: the ending. Should everything end on a happy note? Should tragedy befall the characters? Were these to be their final moments?

Alas, the answer remained hidden. Her enthusiasm only grew. Oh how she enjoyed a challenge! Her yellow eyes reflected the screen's light. In the darkness of her office, they seemed to glow. She smiled whilst fantasizing about the various possibilities.

Her smile disappeared. This story told of what could be a new beginning, or a terrible final fate. It was so much like a very real situation. If they failed to rid themselves of the Resets, the Underground would spiral into chaos. A thought, an idea, a concept manifested in her mind, as they tended to often do.

What would become of monsterkind if escape were achieved?

They had existed for far longer than most mortal beings could live. If this hold on them were broken, would they all turn to dust? She felt thrilled. A final stand, an epic showdown of sorts, could actually happen. Whatever this plan entailed, it seemed to be the climax of a living novel. Undyne was more than pleased to know she would witness the event.

She was filled with inspiration. This ending would have to wait. Her creativity ached to start a new tale. Another document was opened; the blank digital page stared invitingly at her. Silence was shattered by the steady rhythm of her typing.

As she continued, she thought of the surface and its inhabitants. If she were meant to see the sun, would she someday meet a human writer? Fantastical images flashed in her mind, several all at once. More than one scenario was playing out. Her imagination was alive and created ideas faster than she could handle.

It was more than she could manage. She loved it. She hadn't had a rush so intense in centuries! A gleeful laugh interrupted the symphony of tapping. The wondrous feeling had overtaken the tiredness that clawed at her mind.

A multitude of scenes vied for her undivided attention. Some of them were of victory. Some were of mythical beings. Paragraph upon paragraph littered the new document. What had started as one string of events transformed into a nonsensical mess.

But she didn't care.

The night went on, and her fingers didn't cease moving until the clock read four forty-five a.m. By this point, the visions would no longer come. Her mind had grown dull from sleep deprivation. Still she refused to rest. She'd clung to inspiration for as long as she could. She was content with her work.

There was one more thing she wanted, however. She stood and placed Vival on the floor, her legs feeling weak. Her pet yawned as she removed her polka dotted housecoat and dropped it in the chair. Undyne took notice of the bright yellow shirt she was wearing. She wondered at times why most preferred a more gothic look. She found it boring.

"C'mon Sol," she said to the bird, inviting the winged creature to perch on her finger. "You need to stretch your wings."

One of Waterfall's many rivers wasn't a far trek from her abode. Once there, Sol Azira weaved between the stones jutting down from the ceiling. Undyne didn't hesitate to dive. She was immediately lost in a silent world of darkness. She ventured deeper until all light had gone.

Weariness had loosened its grip on her muscles. Blind, she stared at nothing as she contemplated the unknown. Most movies from the human world portrayed the surface as lively. In the Underground, everything seemed so still. Did the rivers that flowed above them contain much life?

What were seasons like? It both unnerved and excited her to think of such changes. Snow melting to reveal a landscape of green was almost unthinkable to many. She thought of these things as she let herself drift in the current.

OoOoOoOoOo

She hadn't known of falling asleep until suddenly aware of the temperature. This water was absolutely freezing, and she couldn't feel her feet. Instinctively knowing which was up, she headed in that direction.

It wasn't too long before she reached air. Water droplets froze in her hair before she fully exited the river. Shivering, Undyne laughed at the unexpected turn of events. Walking was a difficult task as she mentally questioned the current time.

The Reset was so close now, only a couple of months away. Had Papyrus finished memorizing everything in those tomes? She supposed she would be finding out soon enough. The skeletons' house wasn't necessarily warm, as they weren't bothered much by cold, and neither was Frisk.

It was better than outside, though. Stumbling her way to the residence, she casually wondered if this frostbite was serious. Would her feet thaw or would she be without them until the year restarted? Only time would tell. And time was a thing the Underground had in abundance.

Time was a thing they might _never_ be short of again.


	15. The Exception

**Yep, this is gettin' posted kind of late 'cause I was sick earlier. Anyway, here it is!**

Chapter Fourteen: The Exception

The sound of overly excited chatter woke Papyrus from his three-hour sleep. He'd memorized every word, but read the books again and again just to be sure. The anxiety-inducing thought of missing something drove him to carefully examine each page. Even though he could recite each sentence with perfect accuracy.

Being woken up worsened the foul mood he'd fallen asleep in. The skeleton stormed over to his bedroom door before halting. He hadn't bothered with sleeping clothes, having been too tired to change. Upon remembering this, he exited his room and angrily descended the stairs to the ground floor.

Undyne was in the living room, wrapped in several blankets and narrating one of her stories. Her hair was damp, confusing him. She didn't _swim_ here, right? Surely even Undyne wouldn't do something so completely nonsensical.

Frisk sat on the couch next to her, while Sans stood on the coffee table for seemingly no reason. Papyrus glared at the trio. The fish-like monster glanced at him as she tried to continue her tale. Her voice grew silent after moments, and they stared back at him, waiting for him to speak.

He opted to wait the extra few seconds for the, "did I wake you up?"

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"Why are you wet?"

"I fell asleep in the river."

He decided not to question just how one could fall asleep in a river. He was tired, and could already hear his doubt telling him to study the books again. It was ridiculous. He knew every word of every page of all three and he refused to read Xatri's centuries old scribbling another time.

 _What if you missed something? Something vital to this plan's success?_

 _Shut up. Just shut up._

"I'm going back to bed." His tone invited no argument, and none came.

A few hours later, wakefulness would come to him again. His state of mind hadn't improved much. The kitchen was a wreck, the result of Sans and Frisk preparing their own meals. The entire house had become a disaster within the past week or so. His focus on studying had rendered him blind to it until now.

Mentally ranting at his absent sibling, Papyrus had two cups of coffee and began cleaning. He scrubbed the dishes clean, made sure the counter was spotless, and threw out some molded cheese that he was sure wasn't there before.

The voice in his head pestered him while he was attempting to vacuum. He of course repeated the process until sure that no dirt remained on the rugs. Once the house was thoroughly clean, he sat on the couch. The chores were done. This was the perfect opportunity to unwind, to calm his nerves.

 _What about the books?_

 _What_ about _them?_

 _You missed something. Go read them again._

 _No._

 _But the fate of the Underground depends on you not screwing this up._

Wait a minute. Why _did_ it depend solely on him? Why did no one else decide to offer any help? They must believe in the possibility of escape, he reasoned. What purpose would acting serve? His irritation, fading bit-by-bit moments prior, returned in full force.

 _They didn't try to help you, idiot, because you're you. Why would_ Papyrus _need any help?_

 _I'm not some all-powerful being._

 _But you pretend to be so special. Y-_

 _I do not._

 _The point is: they probably figured you'd have bitten their heads off if they insinuated you need help. Even Asgore is a little intimidated by you. He's just great at hiding it._

Solitude was usually something he enjoyed. It was something he thought fondly of, especially when others were annoying him. He reflected on the words last spoken in his mind. Papyrus was unwilling to change, to shatter the reputation he had spent so long building. Yet he found himself hoping for some company soon.

He thought of calling Toriel. They could play a few games of chess, and perhaps she would finally best him. Undyne was almost always in the mood to ramble on about something or other. Maybe she would tell him about her latest story.

The quiet bugged him more with each minute that passed. Snowdin wasn't as silent as it would soon be, but it remained Snowdin. Whatever people were doing outside, the noise wasn't loud enough to reach him. He contemplated starting a movie. Glancing at the radio, the idea came to let the air fill with classical music.

But he couldn't have a conversation with the TV or the sound of violins. The front door opened and he was a bit startled by the sudden disruption of silence. A faint wind outside echoed throughout the caverns, mimicking the sound of a roar. A click could be heard as the door was closed, plunging the room into soundlessness once again.

His human friend had arrived from wherever she'd disappeared to. He realized that she was likely the best person to speak with right now. Frisk had kept quiet about the surface world all this time. If they were to escape, however, such information would be useful. He wanted to know what he would be getting into should he destroy the barrier.

"Frisk, come here. There's something I want to ask."

She wordlessly took a seat on the rarely used chair in the room. "What is it?" Had it not been for the silence, Papyrus wouldn't have heard her voice.

"It's time you told me about the surface. If we do manage to free ourselves, it'd be better to know what to expect."

"But, th-this plan…. Even if we do get out of here, the Reset may still happen."

"Yes, but it would still be helpful to know-"

"So why even bother trying?"

No one knew if the human-run world was a terrible place. Frisk's timid nature could've spawned from being surrounded with violence. It could be the result of a lone incident. Of course, it could just be that that was the way she was, and so much talking would make her nervous. Even if the words were spoken to the person she trusted the most.

"Because I have to."

Understanding was clear in her dark eyes, but with it was reluctance. After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, he relented. With a sigh, he simply uttered, "all right."

 _She's the exception._

 _What are you talking about?_

 _You wouldn't let anyone else withhold such information, no matter how much they wanted to. You don't intimidate her in the slightest. And you're okay with that._

 _Where are you going with this?_

 _Doesn't her fearful nature seem familiar?_

Sans walked in, and his previous anger was remembered. "There you are! How could let this house get to the state it was in?"

His brother blinked, looking confused. "But I cleaned everything this morning. I dunno how…. _Bob._ I'm gonna get that troll!"

And with that, Papyrus' sibling left, slamming the door on his way out.


	16. Along Comes a Fly

Chapter Fifteen: Along Comes a Fly

Magic hadn't been used in this manner since the earliest days of the world. As it turned out, several materials could be used to break a spell. He was trying to follow Xatri's instructions to the letter. Magicae mortem hadn't been seen growing since before Asgore became king, however.

If it were to be found anywhere, it would be in the last place he wanted to look. Papyrus stared into the cup of tea resting upon the coffee table. Frisk's attention had been on the television ever since the program had started thirty minutes ago. Who he had once claimed as his sister was introducing the last of the comedy skits.

"There's just one last thing on this list…. A cooking show?" Her expression was one of confusion, though he knew better. The feigned state was an act, just as everything else about her. "A cooking show. Um, just one second."

As she spoke, Sans came to stand beside her. A circle of empty space existed behind them. Within the shadowy area below, their next scene was being hastily prepared. Of course, no one in the present audience could see it. It was the position of the camera that caused him to notice.

In a mock whisper that was more than loud enough for the microphone to pick up, "why did you put 'cooking show' on the list?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What- why are you- this is your handwriting." With an exaggerated movement, she showed him the paper. "See? It says it right there. Only you misspelled cooking."

"I wrote no such thing."

"Only _you_ would spell cooking with two 'W's.'"

Laughter erupted from the audience, including Papyrus' human friend. With another roll of eyes he didn't have, he watched their little play continue. A few more similar lines followed before she asked why he was lying to her.

"I don't see what the problem is."

"We don't know how to cook!"

"It can't be _that_ hard! We'll just look at the picture on the box and make that!"

More laughter radiated from the TV. Frisk's quiet giggling joined the sound. He wasn't sure which to be: amused at the nonsensical words or annoyed. The platform rose to reveal a kitchen setup. With a click, the stage was illuminated.

"Well, here we go," Alphys stated in her melodious voice.

The two took their places on the elevated set. A box had been placed on the "island", a box the lizard picked up and stared at. She appeared to be reading it while Sans' attention seemed captured by a cookie jar. He slid the jar across the table towards himself and moved one hand to the lid.

"So what are we making? Fried chicken?" He removed a tiny chirping bird from the container, causing another roar of laugher.

Papyrus allowed himself to be entertained for a moment at his brother's use of teleportation. The ability was an unexpected side affect of the experiments they'd volunteered for. He kept observing the show, it being a welcome distraction from the issue of magic-killing plants.

"No."

The bird disappeared into the jar. Sans' hand remained, withdrawing a small and flailing fish. "Fried fish?"

She glanced at him long enough to reply, "nope."

He dropped the fish a short way back into the jar. Water splashed out from the sole exit, which of course was met with more laughing. Now, how in the world did everyone see that small amount of liquid? The cape-wearing skeleton closed the container and instead pulled something from up his sleeve.

"Well we're not having fried bat." Shinigami hung from one of his fingers.

Papyrus sensed the beginnings of an idea as he stared at the winged rodent. The creatures he feared slunk soundlessly through the dark, clinging to the shadows of the Ruins like a nocturnal predator. He knew of a certain monster that moved with such stealth. The creatures would undoubtedly still notice her presence.

But she would almost definitely fare better than he would. If she were to fall under their spell though, a difficult battle lay ahead. The noises of performance and laughter faded the more he considered his idea. How would it affect his appearance, asking Muffet to go instead? The memory of the voice's words replayed in his mind.

In the end, he decided there would be no harm seeking help just once. Announcing his departure, he left Frisk to sit through Alphys' sickeningly cheerful songs. It was quieter than usual outside. Everyone was likely staring at his or her television screen.

He made a mental note to play a few games of chess with Toriel soon. The Reset was fast approaching. He thought of what he would do during the next timeline. He'd watched every movie, read every book, and even tried a few video games. Even _with_ company to talk to, things had been uneventful.

At the same time he knew not to complain. Something _had_ happened and it was the most stressful thing he'd experienced in a long time. If all went well, soon everything would change. All he could do was hope that the change would be for the better.

 _You should read the books a few more times before the Reset._

 _I can still recite each one with no problem._

 _Fine then. Don't listen to me. You'll regret it when you fail in front of everyone._

The rest of his walk was made in uneasy silence. Muffet was known for making people nervous. He'd met her a few times, but she was one who quite enjoyed solitude. Papyrus wasn't sure how she would react to this. The spider monster wasn't exactly predictable. He was before her lair soon enough. It seemed nearly as dark as the Ruins.

Refusing to divert from his chosen course, he strode confidently into the darkness.


	17. The Spider and the Fly

Chapter Sixteen: The Spider and the Fly

The faint hum of a skull was one of the only noises. The cavern produced an eerie echo of the sound and gave off an unsettling illusion. Twice he halted, believing there to be another's footsteps behind him. If Muffet had no problem seeing in this darkness, she should be more than able to find what he needed.

Of course, he would have to find her first. He hadn't been trying to keep track of how long he'd wandered around here. Papyrus thought that he surely must have been getting close. He silently hoped to locate the spider soon. Five eyes would undoubtedly be better than none, especially when those eyes were made for the shadows.

 _And you won't have to face your fear._

He didn't argue with the voice. He couldn't think of any way to defend himself. It was true, after all, that that was the bigger reason for seeking Muffet's help. The echoed skittering of multiple tiny legs caught his attention. Unable to see the arachnids, he continued, taking notice of the webs littering his path.

It wasn't long before the skull's glow was dimmed. He was starting to have trouble avoiding the webs. The magical manifestation didn't have a chance. He stumbled, nearly tripping when he stepped on sticky ground. He let the skull go quiet and disappear before creating a new one. In those few moments of pitch-black, he thought he could see eyes looking back at him. Hundreds and hundreds of eyes.

If anything, it only made the skeleton more certain. No, it wouldn't just be five looking if he could convince her to go. The pull of spider silk and the sound he heard when pulling his foot from the ground, it irritated him immensely. It reminded him of the sound of walking in the kitchen after juice had been spilled there and left to dry.

With that unpleasant idea in his mind, he struggled onward. Another wave of the spiders' crawling echoed much fainter than before. Wherever the monster he was searching for resided, it _couldn't_ far. But walking became more of an impossible thing the farther along he ventured.

It didn't seem like much time had passed before mobility was lost. He hadn't the faintest idea how thick the blanket of webs was. Papyrus didn't have long to reflect on the question. A voice filled the still air, light and cheerful, with a trace of danger.

"What's this? Has a fly wandered into my web? Oh, how delightful! It's been too long since a fly came to visit. It's only ever the roach, and it's not very pleasant company."

"Muffet, where are you?" He called into the blackness, making no effort to see past the dim green glow.

Her reply came as a soft, foreboding whisper. "I am everywhere." Again the surrounding arachnids shifted.

"Right. Of course you are." The sarcasm in his tone caused another stir and he wondered how many of the eight-legged creatures there were. "I've come to ask you to retrieve something. There'll be much to do the Reset after this one. The sooner I get everything I need, the sooner we'll know if this plan will work."

He didn't doubt that she knew what he was talking about. The spiderlike monster had ways of knowing exactly what was happening in the kingdom. He never claimed to understand it, but silently guessed it was her thousands of "friends" that gave her information. He felt the familiar spark of anger thinking of her possible spying.

"And you want no one else to think that the Great Papyrus needs any assistance. So-"

"I don't." His voice was firm and full of certainty. It betrayed nothing of the anxiety he felt thinking of the beings. "But you can see in the dark. I can't. The only place magicae mortem grows, if anywhere will be in the uncivilized part of the Ruins."

"What of the creature?" She sounded curious rather than apprehensive. Regardless, he realized this was the most important moment in the conversation.

He let the skull disappear. The light had grown too faint to make any difference. It had already become too dim to illuminate his feet, which were still held in place. It'd been an exhausting timeline, and however well he hid his lack of energy, powering the magic light was too much at the moment.

Yet he made an effort not to appear fazed. Muffet could be an unpredictable monster at times, and showing weakness was an especially bad idea right now. Besides, this would prove to her that he didn't fear the shadows blinding him.

"What about it? I can go look if you're afraid. But the Ruins is much bigger than your little 'lair' and it will take longer to find out if this will work."

" _I_ am the predator which lurks in the darkness. No magic-conjured beast could ever hope to frighten me. I was merely wondering if there was anything else you'd learned about it. Rushing in unprepared is not a mistake I make often." She seemed unaffected by his challenge, even laughing a bit before she spoke.

"No. There's nothing I know about them that you don't." _At least, nothing I can put into words,_ he thought as more skittering filled the air.

"Okie dokie, then! I'll give it a go. But I will need to know just what this plant looks like."

He'd drawn a perfect replica. Taking it out of his pocket, the drawing was hastily snatched from his hand before he could question her location again. A dull roar of movement reverberated slightly, for the most part muffled by the webs.

His thoughts abruptly turned to his phone, which he checked to find a missed call from Frisk. Worry for his human friend vexed him as he tried to call her back. Muffet was silent, as was the phone, leaving him to wonder why it wasn't ringing. Papyrus realized something with more than a little annoyance:

*The signal is clogged with cobwebs.

"A unique looking plant. I should have no trouble finding it," the cheerful yet ominous monster called from her unknown location.

"Good. Then my trip here wasn't pointless."

He turned and began walking back the way he'd come. At least, he hoped it was the way he'd come. The skeleton moved several paces before realizing his feet were free. Feeling tired, he chose not to bother questioning it.

"Bye, fly! Oh, and never insult my intelligence again. Try tricking me with reverse psychology again, and I will feed you to my pet."


	18. Secrets Kept, Words Unspoken

Chapter Seventeen: Secrets Kept, Words Unspoken

The Underground hadn't seemed so vast in a long, long time. Frisk wasn't answering her phone, and no one else was at the house. He silently cursed Alphys once again whilst striding through Waterfall. If Sans had been in Frisk's presence instead of that vain lizard's, Papyrus knew he would've felt a bit better.

 _It's not really his fault he still wants to be around her,_ he told himself. _He doesn't know. I never told him._

 _Why not?_

 _Not now._

 _Why, Papyrus?_

 _You know why. Sans is so innocent, so childlike. I didn't want to let that be destroyed._

 _So you've kept this a secret, for his sake._

 _She doesn't hide her selfishness from him, but he refuses to see the truth, and I won't try to make him._

 _Why are you still so bothered? It happened hundreds of years ago. Literally._

 _I'm not,_ he replied, unwilling to fully believe so many Resets had passed.

 _You still don't even want to_ think _about what happened. You keep it as far from your conscious mind as possible. I'm surprised you even brought it up after all this time._

He managed to quiet the pestering voice as he reached freezing air. The house wasn't far, and his fatigue was long forgotten. Clouds had woven themselves around the frost-covered stalactites above. Snow fell heavily, landing without the faintest sound. Echoes of barks and growling sped up his pace.

Surely enough, the dogs were there. Snowdin's canine members of the royal guard had decided to attack. Deep grooves had been carved into the wood. One window was shattered. His attention was far from the state of his abode. Blood had soaked into the grounded snow, halting him in his tracks.

The idea of killing Frisk was far from a new one. That the dogs would do it knowing there was no point sparked the unpleasant fire in his soul. The darkness that'd lingered inside him scrambled to the surface, and he felt it drive his actions.

The feral creatures circled his friend as she sat curled, waiting for death. More of the deep red substance soaked her clothes, and her fear-filled eyes met eye sockets. Strange things, eyes were. They had a way of betraying so much at times.

"There must be a way to kill the human once and for all!" It was Greater Dog who spoke. The small wolf-like canine's guttural voice was quite different from the pained yelp she uttered moments later.

The magic sword, its blade curved and broken in appearance, disappeared immediately after impact. It was enough to halve the mutt's HP. The pack's collective gaze turned to him. Rage was apparent in their every feature, but they hesitated to fight. His ire grew at this reaction.

They had no qualm with harming Frisk, but the instant a true opponent came along, they showed uncertainty. Looking to his human friend, he told her, "go inside."

The human obediently struggled to her feet and limped through the entrance. The door had been torn from its upper hinge. She didn't try to close it, nor did she look back. Somehow he could tell there was something new bothering her, but first things came first.

Despite their title as members of the guard, the dogs carried no weapons and wore no armor. It would be easy to kill them. Images flashed in his mind of their dust falling to the ground, soon to be buried by the falling snow. He realized suddenly that the darkness flowed freely through his mind.

Would it really be so wrong to temporarily end these creatures? They attacked his friend. They struck first, and had no regret for their actions. Yet now they stood wary. They weren't too sure if they wanted to fight one who wasn't defenseless, and an inaudible voice encouraged retaliation.

His fear was drowning in rage. "Leave."

"You lie to yourself, skeleton. The only way we'll have freedom is by killing the human, and finding a way to make it stay that way," the pack leader growled, stalking toward him. "It is not your friend. Have you forgotten why we live here instead of the surface?"

"She isn't our enemy, and you'll stay away from her from now on. Now leave before I-"

With a vicious snarl, the wolf-like canine charged, never contacting her target. One of the swords shot up from the ground. This one he kept around, watching with suppressed glee as the health meter plummeted to zero. Papyrus felt in this moment a foreign, twisted thrill. The dog choked briefly before dissipating.

The others were clearly terrified. They chose to flee. It was too late for them to escape with their lives. They should've heeded the warning, he thought faintly, hurling magic attacks at the retreating figures. Lesser Dog, as it was known, was encased by green moments before death. The sharp-sighted Doggo tried to fight.

The dog monster's teeth dug into his arm. He felt the bone try not to break as he created a dagger. In his fury he stabbed the attacking creature, observing the HP drop bit by delightful bit. A part of him fought these violent actions and the pleased thoughts that came with them. Another reminded him that his opponents were at fault.

Doggo tried to run once again, but Papyrus plunged the blade into his attacker's throat. A moment later, all was silent and he felt satisfied at all the dust. With the source of his anger dead, it was surprisingly easy to control the darkness. He shoved it back into the farthest reaches of his mind while healing his arm.

OoOoOoOoOo

He and his friend would talk for a couple of hours after that, after her injuries were healed. He knew there was something causing her more anxiety than usual. She refused to reveal just what it was, and he wondered what new secret she was keeping.

He tried not to let his thoughts linger too long on what he had done. He'd killed them in defense of another, true, but he had _enjoyed_ it. He attempted vainly to ignore that the evil side of him had grown in power. Frisk asked what was wrong, and just as she had, he wouldn't let her in on it.

Some things were better left untold.


	19. Chaos, Memories, and Determination

**A little late. Blame my sleeping patterns. Also, the people who say if you leave a wasp alone, it will leave you alone…. THEY LIE!**

 **imnotraven16: Thank you!**

Chapter Eighteen: Chaos, Memories, and Determination

Twice now Papyrus was acquainted with the unnatural silence, the silence that accompanied a lifeless Snowdin. The Other's shadow had exited the Underground's coldest land mere hours ago. There was little the skeleton could do to escape his darkened thoughts.

He found it impossible to immerse his mind in text or scenes he'd witnessed so many times. So early in the timeline, he opted to avoid his brother's computer for now. His internal conflict was bringing about the familiar emotion of ire. This time, no voice was needed to have an argument with himself.

Two sides of him were at war, and he was unsure which he wanted to win. Was it truly so wrong to gain some form of enjoyment from his murderous actions? The dogs had been the ones to initiate those events. On the other hand, it certainly couldn't be well to encourage the growth of this darkness.

He was afraid. And he was thrilled.

Theses two vied for ultimate power, each rising in sync with the other, to the point where he felt overwhelmed by their strength. Taking a deep breath, Papyrus tried to settle into the task of cleaning. He realized with a flare of annoyance that several spots on the counter had been missed. He repeated the task.

He became ensnared in the silent chaos while attempting to vacuum, and cleaned the rug a second time. In the midst of mopping the floors, he came to a halt upon remembering the ancient books. At once, he felt the injury to his pride. How could he have been so thoughtless? The books were imbued with so many powerful forms of magic that they were unaffected by the loop.

 _Why else would the creatures have wanted me to destroy them? They knew that they wouldn't have reappeared._

Though he had to wonder if setting fire to the tomes would've even worked with all the protection. He wasn't about to try. He himself questioned as he continued the possibility of something he'd overlooked. With little else to do, he knew he'd end up rereading them.

A crash resounded through the empty caverns, startling him. He abandoned the mop and bucket to investigate. The skeleton monster strode confidently toward the door despite his apprehension. As always he was unwilling to show any form of fear. He opened the front door, ignoring the flash of memory involving its previous state.

There was no abnormal sight to greet him. Nothing appeared to be out of place. Anxiety joined the swarm whilst he wondered just what had caused the disturbance. All was painfully quiet, as though nothing had actually occurred.

 _Perhaps you're hearing things._

His phone rang, shredding the veil of silence. He didn't bother with a reply to the voice. The door was swung back into its place without another word. After hearing the click that confirmed its position, Papyrus retrieved the phone. He answered without a glance at the number and wished instantly that he hadn't.

"Hello? Papyrus? It's Temmie."

"What do you want?"

"How sure are you that this plan will work?"

"That isn't why you're bothering me."

A pause followed his words. It was over far too soon in his opinion. The odd cat-like creature's voice irritated him. "The Determination, Papyrus. If the human can be destroyed, we'll be rid of this problem. Even if we _are_ able to reach the surface, we've no idea how the world above will react."

"You're afraid," he stated in a dry tone, restraining his anger.

"The world run by humans is likely to be dangerous. Those monsterkind has encountered caused nothing but trouble. The Underground is a safe alternative. We're working on a smaller version of the DT Extractor, since for _some_ reason, the human's been avoiding us."

"And you'll avoid _her_ if you have a fraction of the intelligence you claim to."

And with that, the call was over. Papyrus welcomed the unnerving silence that had bothered him previously. He cared not for the lack of conversation if that all he was missing. The situation raised a question he met with dread and paranoia.

Talk of killing his friend seemed to be growing more popular. He remembered now what had been faintly noted before. The timelines leading up to when everything had changed, the skeleton had caught parts of such discussions noticeably more often than usual. He'd scarcely left the house during the previous one. Even then, doubtful voices would whisper through the air.

How many were willing to harm Frisk, to kill her over and over in hopes of ending the Resets? He suddenly longed for the moments he had believed everyone was completely resigned to this fate. No, they spoke in quiet tones and in private. Or they uttered the idea in a casual or sometimes joking way, so as to not invoke his suspicion.

 _Or you're just going crazy._

 _It is no secret that I'll defend her._

 _Why is that exactly?_

 _She hasn't done anything wrong, and she's my friend._

 _Even so. If the cycle can be ended this way and only this way, she would understand. Wouldn't she? Surely Frisk would be willing to make that sacrifice if it means monsterkind may have peace again._

 _She doesn't want to die, just as everyone else. And I would never ask such a thing. I would never betray her. I'm not…._

 _Go on. Say it._

He tried as he always did when these memories came, to block them out. It was pointless to think of them, he told himself. He learned that night what he needed to know. That was all. Even as he tried to convince himself of that, sadness and rage boiled within his soul. Something else overpowered both: his refusal to lose composure.

 _*You are filled with Determination._


	20. A Secret Celebration

Chapter Nineteen: A Secret Celebration

There was something about the day's date that nagged at his thoughts, distracting Papyrus from his troubled musings. Waterfall's population was dead, the last life ended right on schedule. Hotland was well on its way to a lifeless state. He'd studied Xatri's books a few times. Two novels had managed to keep his attention from start to finish. A lost movie from the attic provided a much needed difference to life.

Now there was a new thing to keep him from reflecting on the events of the previous timeline. Sitting at his brother's desk, the skeleton monster stared blankly at the top right corner of the computer screen. He'd come to the piece of technology hoping for an interesting enough game before the image had captivated his sight. Now he sat there wondering just what this could mean.

Whatever it was, he reasoned, this day was unlikely to be something negative. He felt the slightest bit better thinking of it. The trace of emotion was barely recognizable, but existed nonetheless. No, this date brought a tiny shard of…. Happiness? Or was it excitement? So faint was the feeling and so long since he had known such things, that he was clueless as to which. He refused to count that twisted glee from before. This was entirely different.

The screen faded to black, leaving him to gaze at his reflection. The answer to his question had something to do with Papyrus himself. He regarded his appearance in unbroken silence. This silence he welcomed even more, considering the unexplained noises that occurred whenever he was in thrall of anxiety. Those interruptions only ever seemed to happen when he was drowning in dark thoughts.

A part of him knew what that meant, knew the only logical conclusion. He kept the notion buried in the shadows of his mind. It was a truth he didn't know if he could face. The idea that his plan wouldn't work made it all the more unbearable. To avoid being launched into a panic attack, he had to believe that the barrier would soon be destroyed, and that that would be enough to end the Resets. An overabundance of magic could cause some strange things after all. And there was more than enough trapped within the kingdom.

Would everyone turn to dust because of the barrier's destruction? It was a question Undyne had chattered excitedly about, claiming the possibility set her mind alight with inspiration. He didn't think much about it, having quite enough to worry over. Papyrus did however, mentally acknowledge it. If the answer was no, the Underground's inhabitants would be the oldest living beings in the world. Intelligent living beings, anyway.

 _Speaking of age, I can sense that you're remembering._

It was his birthday. The realization came as a shock. Of course such things were no longer celebrated, but never did he expect to so completely forget about his own. The meaning of this date simply slipped from his consciousness over the many timelines. If not for his glance at that corner of a screen, he might have lost it entirely.

He was unsure exactly how to react to this wordless disclosure. It was yet to be seen if birthdays would come to have a meaning once again. He could remember now, Sans surprising him with a gift or delicious pastries. Whatever it was, rarely had it been something he was expecting. Though it was well hidden, he would always greet the day with enthusiasm, wondering what his sibling had in store.

 _And he would always be so impatient the days before his, when you would return the favor._

 _Yes,_ he agreed with barely a flicker of notice for the voice.

An idea currently occupied his mind, an idea he wanted to act upon. It was an almost foreign concept to the mature adult. It wasn't as though doing this would harm his reputation. There was no one around to know and judge his actions. With a trace of a smile, Papyrus rose from the seat and descended to the ground floor of his house.

 _What are you doing?_

 _You don't know?_

The walk to the grocery store might have been eerie if not for his mood. He kept his focus away from the ground, in case anyone happened to be out when they were killed. There was a certain freedom in being the only monster alive in Snowdin. Not a soul remained to witness anything he did. He hoped that nothing had gotten into the boxes of cake mix. He didn't know all the things that would even be edible for the opportunistic rodents he'd encountered previously.

The building was dark, though by no means deserted, and he gathered the mix and frosting without incident. All was peaceful whilst he prepared the food. He was for a time, lost in what he enjoyed so long ago. Relaxation came with the familiar task. His problems disappeared for while as he relished a perfectly made cupcake.

A screech came from the upper floor. Curiosity drove him to check on Shinigami. A piece of dessert in one hand, he opened his brother's bedroom door to an amusing sight. Entangled in yarn was the annoyed animal, and Papyrus mentally questioned how she got herself into such a predicament. The ball beside her cage now lay on the floor, creating a trail of blue to the bat.

Leaving the cupcake piece aside the wire boundaries, he spend the next five minutes gradually freeing her. He returned the flying rat to her cage when done. The skeleton at first stopped himself from talking to the creature, then remembered that it would have no consequence.

"What exactly were trying to accomplish?"

She looked at him with a "your pitiful mind wouldn't understand such things" kind of expression.

He almost laughed. Picking up the fragment of cake, he slid his arm through the opening, allowing her to smell it. There was no food in her enclosure, so he figured why not? Turning her nose up (or down, considering her position) at the sugary confection, the bat's face told him all he needed to know.

"All right. Apple, then."

Leaving both cage and bedroom doors open, he went to retrieve Shinigami's favorite food.

 **Everyone sing happy birthday for Papyrus. :P**


	21. Different Kinds of Nightmares

Chapter Twenty: Different Kinds of Nightmares

Darkness gripped everything, his surroundings made invisible by an unnatural shroud. The shadows allowed no movement. There was nowhere to flee even if he could. For they concealed little else but a snow laden ground. He knew not of how he'd obtained this fact.

Papyrus made a useless attempt at figuring out how things had come to this. No train of thought could exist for long, a fog having settled into his fearful mind. He silently called for light to cut through the suffocating dark. He struggled for air as panic joyfully crept in.

The darkness was alive, the shadows circling playfully. A familiar presence stalked its defenseless prey. Its power increased with every moment that he was afraid, with every breath that failed to bring enough air.

Though he could not bring himself to be devoid of the emotion. His muddled fractions of thought were unable to produce much reason. Even if he had been fully capable of trying to calm himself, a part of the skeleton knew that it would do no well. Emotions weren't usually things that could simply be turned off.

How much time passed this way? It was impossible to tell, and an irrelevant subject. Seconds passed by that felt like years, before his perception of it sped up, the hands of an unseen clock moving too quickly for mortal sight. It took an eternity for the clock's hands to shift. Then four forevers were over in the time it took to blink.

The being was content to feed. And then it wasn't. Papyrus was standing before an image that appeared exactly like him. Despite the blinding shadows, it was clear as could be. It was no mirror image, he realized with dread. He and it were the same.

The skeletal monster in front of him carried a cruel smile. It radiated everything wrong, each and every thing no one was supposed to be, feel, or think. It had no morals or regard for others' well being. It cared not for the world around it and found excitement in destruction. This creature was evil.

And it was him.

His eye sockets opened to a shaded room. Dark, but naturally so. Magic and streetlights were reflected by snow, and soft light illuminated the room. Glass was broken somewhere nearby, but sleep wouldn't fully release his mind. The being was close. He assumed and hoped that it was weak here.

Sleep lingered, leaving him in a half-conscious state. His thoughts began drifting to memories they normally wouldn't touch. He was flooded with images of the past before able to react.

 _Droplets fell heavily from the obscure space above. Despite everything, he found it amusing. Why was it that rain always seemed to accompany such moments?_

Wakefulness betrayed him. It was unwilling to come and give him control. So Papyrus tried to flee back into his realm of nightmares not nearly as difficult to face. There was no amount of fear he could find less desirable than this.

 _His pursuers weren't far, and he was entirely sure they were serious. How many injuries could one suffer before their two points of health depleted? It was the question they had posed many times and now they were going to experiment. Sprinting through territory unknown, he knew he was a rat in a maze._

His plan backfired. The unconscious state was more welcoming, and made sure to let this recollection go on. He had been in Waterfall, lost in a tangle of natural hallways deserted by all but he and the others. Skeletons were not inclined to be bothered by temperature. Yet he'd found the falling water unbearably cold.

 _His fear of the dark was at play, making this an even more dramatic scene. To Papyrus, it seemed as though his classmates had disappeared. Glowing mushrooms at a corner behind provided just enough light for over-sized_ _shadows. He decided from this point on to refrain from looking back._

 _Their voices were amplified. The echoes reaching him sounded like the roaring of an unholy beast. He was tired, though fear drove him onward. For how much longer, he didn't know. If only it wasn't so dark. If only he'd done the smart thing and just stayed home. If only-_

 _Papyrus had known for some time that he feared the darkness only for what could lurk within. In the more populated areas of the Underground, it was never a problem. There was always_ something _to shed light on the only parts of the_ _world he knew, and would likely ever know. Here it was different. He had reached a dead end and with not even the glowing of fungi for comfort._

 _They were coming._

He couldn't help it. He began to laugh, effectively jolting himself awake. It made little sense to laugh in his situation. He was trapped in a time loop. If he failed to free the kingdom, everyone was likely to lose their sanity. Nevertheless, stopping proved an impossible feat.

Sitting up, the skeleton reflected willingly now on his past self. His HP was higher now than it had been. Afraid of the dark because of what could be stalking him in the shadows. There truly was something out there to validate such a fear, and the skeleton had discovered a part of himself that _liked_ it. The twisted side of him struggled for power, to make him feel comfortable even in the shroud of his sleeping nightmare.

In a way, Papyrus was still terrified of the dark. Only a different kind. He thought back to that night in the tunnels and his humor shattered. He was able to catch his breath as he remembered turning the tables on those monsters. He'd fought back. He'd _had_ to. Afterwards, his reputation would change, sculpted carefully into the one he now protected.

 _You fought them. You fought them because…._

 _I was tired of it. And I feared then that they really would kill me._

 _And?_

 _And…. Because there was no one there to protect me anymore._

 **Sorry this is so late everyone! My brain just wasn't working. But I'm actually really enjoying this story. I dunno if I've had this much fun writing since The Rise of RogueClan. Anyway...**

 **An announcement: updates should hopefully become much more frequent. I want to finish so I can better focus on National Novel Writing Month. And with everything else that'll be distracting me, having this finished before or by November should help. Then, when the time comes, I'm pretty sure I'll be absent from fanfiction altogether. Definitely won't be updating stories until I either write fifty thousand words or just fail miserably and give up.**

 **So how is everyone liking the story thus far?**


	22. The Unreachable Enemy

Chapter Twenty-one: The Unreachable Enemy

 _Tick tock._

Silence.

And the year was Reset.

Papyrus exited his too familiar room and made his way through the too familiar house. He found his brother in the living room and prepared a couple of omelets soon after. For a time they ate in quiet, Sans disrupting that uncomfortable silence when half of his meal was gone.

"So," was his awkward start of the conversation. "This is the timeline we find out if this'll work?"

"Yes."

"What do we do if it doesn't?"

He was wordless for several moments that followed. If his plan didn't work, he could see no positive outcome. If this didn't work, the Resets would go on. Monsterkind would be stuck, seemingly forever in a routine of death and life. If his plan failed, if the barrier remained, the nameless creature or creatures that had stalked him would only grow in power.

He was feeling strangely calm, numb to all emotion. He knew he would start to feel anxious. He knew he would hide it perfectly. Though in these precious minutes he felt nothing, the skeleton knew that his fear would return. Another fact, another certainty he had was that his friend's Determination would not relent. This would work. It would.

"It will."

OoOoOoOoOo

 _No._

OoOoOoOoOo

To break the barrier and free the overload of magic, the mystical element would be used in a different manner. Countless years had passed since those ancient times, even before the loop began. Monsterkind had honed its skills in the art of magic usage. Such a ritualistic way of its use was, quite frankly, old school.

Salt, iron, and a few plants, including magicae mortem, combined with some words in a language abandoned long ago. It was painfully simple. How was it that no one had tried it yet? Why did their ancestors never make that attempt?

Snowdin was quiet, as it usually was. There existed however, a tension in the still cavern air. Grey clouds hovered motionless above his head. If one didn't know any better, they would think a bit of sky would appear, should wind part the blanket. His footsteps echoed dully through the forest.

His phone rang, and he checked the number this time. The Temmies. Of course they were bothering him again. He opted to ignore the call, giving the space around him something else to mimic. A patch of particularly resilient flowers was soon to come into view. He knew it, having tread this path before.

A world of mystery awaited him. For as long as he could remember, there had always been speculation about the surface. Never had he imagined that he would one day see it. He paused upon reaching the plants, looking around at the peaceful landscape. He _knew_ this place. As tired as he was of seeing it, the familiarity held a form of comfort. Papyrus doubted that leaving would be easy.

His trance was broken by the ringing phone. The infuriating cat-like monsters were refusing to give up. In a flash of anger, he slid the back cover off the device and removed its battery. He put the thing back together before returning it to his pocket.

He pulled the flowers from the ground without a second thought. Their stems would be useless. The pale blue petals and dark leaves were what he required. He saw no point in separating them until he began preparing everything. It was now that it occurred to him that he had brought nothing to carry these things with.

The skeleton monster created a makeshift basket from his scarf. Green and blue on black on white. Why was he suddenly so aware of colors? Why did everything feel to be happening in slow motion? Lost within his musings, Papyrus turned and headed back toward his house.

Could it be that monsters of the past _had_ tried this? Was he merely repeating a doomed endeavor? Perhaps that was the case. Either way, he had to see it through. He would know for himself if escape from the Underground was truly impossible. And if it was….

If it was….

 _You're forgetting something._

He halted to materialize a curved sword and effortlessly sever a thin branch. It crashed onto the snow with little more than a whisper, and he added it to the scarf. Pine needles. He'd been too distracted by his thoughts to notice.

 _Aren't you going to thank me?_

 _For what? You've done nothing but spared me a short trip outside._ If _even that._

 _Do you think that you'll ever be rid of me, you arrogant pile of garbage? Because you won't._

He froze with surprise. That was the first time this voice had outright insulted him. Wasn't it? Or had he simply been too caught up in recent events to catch it before? Fury set his soul alight. This didn't make any sense. He wasn't crazy, not yet. There was no reason for Papyrus to be hearing any voice in his head aside from his own.

 _You really believe that, don't you?_

 _It's truth. Now be quiet._

 _Make me._

Enraged, his aura radiated his ire whilst he continued. The voice taunted him, and he scarcely regarded anyone he passed in town. His pace grew quick without his permission. He was going to lose his composure, this much he could not prevent. He could however, force the event into secrecy.

 _No one_ did as this voice was doing. No one would even dare to think of it. Its barrage of jeering brought upon him a fire like no other. Worst of all was that he was powerless to end it. Or was he? Slamming the front door shut behind him, the skeleton prayed he was the only one there. He stormed up to his room, instinctively locking the only safe exit. He abandoned the plants, buried his face in a pillow, and screamed.


	23. The Meaning of Time

**Olerbasity** : **I hope it continues to be cool~**

Chapter Twenty-two: The Meaning of Time

His wakefulness came with a start. He hadn't been aware of falling asleep. His muffled voice had successfully drowned his tormentor's array of insults. Though unaware of the time, he wanted to remain in that state. It'd been a foreign experience, releasing his frustrations in such a way. Papyrus couldn't recall when he had last been so loud before this incident.

It hadn't taken much of the monster's screaming in the end, to make it give up, to make the voice realize it had gone too far. He'd felt so overwhelmed by the situation however, that he must've forced himself into the sleeping realm. His escape was over now. There was work to be done.

A few hours had come and gone, he found upon looking at the clock. There was time. Time at least for the plants he needed in Waterfall. How was Muffet's little "adventure" going? He imagined having to fight her and her spider army before trying to dismiss the matter from his thoughts. She could handle herself, and would be more than a little irritated at his doubt.

He wasn't the only monster in the Underground to radiate confidence. A quiet tapping at the door at last brought the skeleton to his feet. He easily recognized Frisk's timid request for his presence. Unlocking it, he moved the door quickly, but not so much as to let her know something had happened. She for one, had more than enough to deal with.

"H-hi…."

Papyrus could sense that something was horribly off about her. Whatever had been bothering the human seemed to only grow worse without his interference. He made up his mind to find out what the new problem was, even if it meant leaving the plants for another day.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Her voice louder than normal. Her attempts at deceit were pathetic, and he felt upset that his friend apparently didn't trust him enough to just be truthful. "N-nothing's wrong! Soon, the barrier will be broken a-and we can leave! Everyone can see real stars and the moon and-"

"Frisk, you're a terrible liar. Come," that word was spoken as he stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind. She followed without argument.

 _I'm sorry!_

The silent yelling interrupted him in the middle of preparing tea. He might've jumped if not for having company right in the next room. His previous ire bubbled inside him, anger that he expertly hid, well aware that dark blue eyes could be observing him.

 _Great. Now shut up._

 _Really. I didn't mean to, you just made me angry._

 _You don't have emotions. You don't exist._

 _But I_ do _exist. And I can feel anger, just as you. I'm only trying to help._

 _Help? You'd be of more use if you'd just leave_ _me alone. Besides,_ he added mockingly, his "voice" full of scorn. _I'm Papyrus. I don't need anyone's help._

The beverage ready, he carried a tray into the dining room. With a metaphorical look over his shoulder, his short rant was ended with, _especially not yours._

Triumph flooded him when there came no reply. His mind felt a bit at ease. It took him several moments to realize why. He knew how mad it would sound, but he felt as though he was the only one in his head. His mind felt emptier. He hadn't previously been aware that he could even sense the voice's occupancy.

He knew that being the only one in his mind wasn't exactly the most impressive of accomplishments. He was sane. He wasn't supposed to hear things that certainly weren't there. Despite all of that, he allowed himself to relish this victory. It wouldn't last, but he decided to simply let himself have this, regardless of how short lived it would be.

"Now, are you going to tell me what's been bothering you?" The question came after he finished his tea, and after hers had gone cold.

She opened her mouth, struggled for words, and gave up on the explanation. Shaking her head, the human told him that she needed to think. Frisk excused herself from the room with growing anxiety. Directed at what, he didn't know. He thought of following the human, of demanding that she let him in on this terrible secret she held.

Papyrus remained still, though. The vertebra responsible for his voice was sore. What little talking he'd done had only worsened its condition. He felt too exhausted to heal himself at this time, but knew that even if his voice carried the authority it usually did, he wouldn't use it against his friend.

 _Did she even notice the difference?_ He answered his own question. _No. She would've said something._

OoOoOoOoOo

 _Don't pretend you're not warming up to the idea._

 _I'm not!_

OoOoOoOoOo

In the end, his outing to Waterfall wouldn't come until the next day. Events of the previous one plagued his mind, and it didn't help that something within him was stirring. Determined to prove (to who, he didn't know) that he was better off without the voice, Papyrus made sure to obtain everything he required.

He double and triple checked that he had every necessary ingredient. What he needed from Hotland, he would pick up on the way to the barrier. Now came a waiting game. With magic, the plants would last for several weeks before signs of decay. The spider queen had more than enough time.

 _Time…._

He stopped beside a glowing mushroom, oblivious to the water dripping from the jagged stones on the ceiling. It fell around the skeleton, not on, giving him the peace to reflect on his fading memories. Before the cycle began, he might've been elated at the idea. An endless amount of time? Never having to care about being late to anything, a world where a clock served no purpose?

He'd never conceived that being short on time was an idea that would thrill him. Not until now. What waited for monsterkind above their Underground land? Hostility? Friendship? A barren wasteland? Papyrus was excited, he wanted to find out, yet he couldn't help but wonder if he was ready.

That wasn't like him. No, why should he hesitate? There was nothing in this world that he could not handle.

Right?


	24. A Fire in the Darkness

Chapter Twenty-three: A Fire in the Darkness

"WAKE UP!"

Frisk and Sans, their screaming in unison, awoke him. This night was a few cycles after his trip to Waterfall. His anxiety came and went seemingly at random. It'd been a particularly exhausting day. He'd been looking forward to a peaceful rest. The skeleton's flash of irritation was quickly restrained by the panic in their voices.

Instantly alert, his feet were on the floor before he could register moving. "What is it?"

"Th-th-the…. there's-Grillby…."

His brother took over the explanation. "Your crazy cooking friend's cooking our house!"

"What?" Papyrus had not spoken with the flame creature in several Resets. He remembered well his old friend's fiery (no pun intended) personality. Despite Grillby's temper, he couldn't help but doubt the story was true. The fire monster had never shown actual violence.

"You know that game room no one ever uses anymore?"

Sans' voice faded whilst he hurried from the room. Footsteps behind told him that he wouldn't be facing this alone. He descended the steps and found upon reaching a hallway, smoke permeated the air. Being under stress, the two skeletal monsters had no choice but to breathe, effectively launching themselves into a coughing fit.

It was clearer within the room, likely because there was no longer a wall to keep the clouds inside. The master chef that he had once prepared the most delicious of foods with, wielded a table tennis paddle. Bewildered, Papyrus found himself observing a peculiar scene.

Grillby's background was a dark and distant treeline. The snow nearby had melted, turning into water and smooth sheets of ice a bit farther out. A jagged emptiness existed where the wall stood prior. The living fire stood in its center as orange and red kept eating away at the wood. The floor had not escaped this attack, laying charred and silently enduring the flames that slowly continued.

Just beneath his fingertips, Grillby held a small plastic sphere, taking in every detail. Papyrus was at a loss for words. This was out of nowhere and he was too surprised to react. He saw that the ball was alight, it was tossed into the heated air, and sent flying toward him.

"Papyrus!"

Regaining his senses, he stilled the projectile and let it fall to the untouched floor. Grillby's irritable nature was always expressed through words. That being the case so far meant nothing. What mattered in this moment was the event of this moment. He pushed aside his feelings of surprise and confusion, allowing a different kind of blaze to settle into his core.

"Sans, we have a fire extinguisher, right?"

"There's one in my room for those times when I accidentally set stuff on fire."

"Go get it."

Sans disappeared, leaving him to begin coughing once more. The smell of burning wood was oddly appealing, he noted despite everything. Ignoring the question in the back of his mind, Papyrus froze another ball of melting plastic and let it drop just like the other. The farther the flames invaded, the more smoke filled the area. He waited hopefully for a decent breath. He stumbled onward when it refused to come.

 _If I can just get outside, I can finish this._

His new opponent produced another ball from his pocket. He ended another of Grillby's makeshift attacks and stepped forward, forgetting to watch his footing. The black mass under his foot burned it, and clung stubbornly to the bone.

His lungs felt sore. A slight dizziness attacked his skull and he paused to use the table for support. Hungrily snatching a few decent breaths, he created a skull and threw it at his target. Grillby dodged that. Not the one after. He heard Sans reenter the disintegrating room while leaving it behind.

He thought of questioning his "friend", of finding out the motive for this crime. He tried speaking, only to stop himself each time. Why should the reason matter to him? The action told Papyrus everything he needed to know. Besides that, he knew he could make a pretty accurate guess.

 _Kill the human and then we'll be free,_ he thought mockingly. _Kill everyone who stands in the way of that. Doesn't he know that we'd_ _just come back? Did the dogs know how stupid it was to attack me?_

Grillby was for once completely silent and opted instead to fight. An abandoned paddle lay on the ground. Water soaked into the wood. A light stream of something appeared in the corner of his vision. The roar of flames turned into a deafening wave of crackling. The dark billowing mass that came too nearly made him cough. He could hear his brother lose that battle.

He sidestepped a magic fire and sent curved swords flying at his enemy. The manipulated healing magic kept Grillby in place, but did not make this an easy win. Papyrus wasn't the only one who could deflect offense.

And so it was for a time, that once great friends were engaged in combat. They made no attempt to speak. There was nothing to be said. The skeleton's footprints were soon a tangled mess in the snow that remained. Despite all the warmth, bare spots of dirt were scarcely spotted.

Of all the things he'd seen, a piece of ground without the ice was something he'd never witnessed in Snowdin.


	25. Ashes and Solitude

Chapter Twenty-four: Ashes and Solitude

The heated air was alive with magic. The battling monsters faced each other, glaring and hurling attacks. The curved and broken swords were reduced to nothing before they could reach their target. A shield of liquid fire at Grillby's feet prevented any killing moves from reaching him from the ground.

Considering that this could be the timeline they escaped, he didn't want to risk damaging Frisk's eardrums with one of the skulls. Enough to actually help would require a glass-shattering frequency. Sans tried to assist, distracting their opponent few times before giving up and attacking with cutlasses of magic.

 _He will slip up eventually,_ Papyrus told himself, wanting nothing more than for the monster of fire to be dust on the ground.

A haze had settled upon this scene. The world around was blurred just enough, and the skeleton could feel beginnings of a headache. He was tiring faster with each minute of combat. He questioned despite needing to focus just how much longer he could keep this up.

A blast of magic fire struck Sans in the head, and he saw his brother fall dramatically onto the snow. Concern flashed through him, then his ire was revitalized. His rage was expressed with a flurry of blades made of bone. Grillby returned the gesture with two streams of fire, one from each hand. They circled him, trapping him in a wall of flame.

Then everything stopped. It took a moment for his vision to adjust. He smiled when it did, the dark side of him growing in power ever so slightly. Where his "friend" stood seconds before, a pile of smoldering ash. Their opponent's attention had been diverted from all else. Papyrus's brother had easily ended this fight.

OoOoOoOoOo

Frisk sat on his bed, a rabbit in her lap, when he entered the room. He stared at the animal in confusion before deciding to ask the more important question.

"I didn't smell smoke until I got to that part of the house, and Sans said you woke him. What were you doing up so late?" _And why didn't you come to me first?_

"I…. I wasn't. The light from the fire woke me up."

Still she refused to be truthful, and exhaustion kept him from arguing. He allowed his attention to direct itself at the furry creature. A white pelt and dull red eyes reflected what light there was. His expression must've betrayed his puzzlement.

"I-it just appeared at the door. I don't know where it came from."

 _At least you're not lying to me about_ everything _,_ he silently replied, seeing his own confusion mirrored in her gaze.

"Well, Grillby is dead. The fire's out. The only thing left to do is sleep."

He knew she wouldn't.

OoOoOoOoOo

*You have two unheard voicemails.

"Papyrus? I finished writing the story! I think it's the best one I've written in a while. I just finished sending it to everyone in the Underground, so go to your computer and read it. Why are you still listening? Go!"

He might've known amusement if not for the events of the previous night.

"We've completed a handheld version of the Determination Extractor. When this plan of yours inevitably fails, we will be the ones to free the kingdom." There was a pause, the Temmie hesitant to utter these next words. "Much as I loath to say this, skeleton, you are one of the most intelligent monsters alive. Why must you deny simple fact? The human is not, and never will be your fr-"

The abrupt ending to that message went for the most part unheard. Gripping his phone a bit too tightly, he wondered why so many insisted what they did. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't asked for things to be this way. Papyrus could sense that uncomfortable stirring within himself. Its source remained unknown.

He resisted the temptation of calming his nerves, certain that he could face the day. He could do this. Besides, his brother was in on just what hot chocolate meant, and he was unwilling to let anyone know how anxious he was. Sans had definitely noticed the few times that he'd let himself be seen with the beverage. Speaking of Sans….

 _He's been acting more like himself. Still reclusive, but much better than before._

He wondered why that was. What had come along to dispel that behavior? Was it their impending freedom? And if that was the case, how would it affect his sibling if escape from Resets proved impossible? Would his brother act as he'd done before all this began? Worse?

Papyrus moved quiet as a shadow to see into the living room. Human and monster were in the midst of some card game he didn't understand. Lunch would soon be ready, and Toriel would be arriving later. Undyne would surely call to ask what he thought of her story.

He didn't want to endure a moment of it. Someone he'd considered a friend had tried to kill him. Frisk was in constant danger. He feared for Sans' mental state should leaving be truly unobtainable. The fate of the Underground depended on his plan succeeding. He was alone in an internal chaotic storm.


	26. Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter Twenty-five: Down the Rabbit Hole

Impatience was not a trait he possessed, Papyrus continuously assured himself. No, he was going to Muffet's lair merely to see if she'd returned. The way she was, she might've had the plant and simply be waiting for him to come retrieve it.

Though there was something off about Waterfall today. The streams moved a little strangely. Droplets when they fell did so too quickly or slowly. The glow of the crystals was ever so dimmer than it had been, and his footsteps didn't bring quite the echo he'd grown accustomed to. Details had been deviated just enough.

There was something wrong. Whatever it was, it only grew worse each day. The stirring within his soul only became more persistent. Again and again he failed to find out what caused it. An idea flickered in the corners of his mind, though he refused to acknowledge it.

Treading a path not many frequented, Papyrus was doubting his decision. The main way to Hotland held several questioning voices and uncertain stares. While it would've been a stressful walk, solitude wasn't much better. With nothing else to keep his attention, dark and depressing thoughts ruled his consciousness.

Then again, he was alone even when surrounded. There was no one he could speak with about his worries. Everyone believed he had absolute confidence. He was himself. He knew he should. Nothing was supposed to faze him. Not a problem in the world was meant to sway the commanding tone of his presence.

He could show no weakness, not to anyone. That was simply the way things were. Yet with the stress of all that was happening, he was unsure how much longer he could handle it and maintain his reputation. Every day since Grillby's attack rendered him more and more restless. He told himself repeatedly that his plan would not fail.

But what if it did?

Papyrus was jolted from his thoughts by a small creature bearing a white pelt. The rabbit had disappeared just as abruptly as it had come. Now it manifested before him on a deserted Waterfall trail. He hadn't heard any movement, nor seen the animal emerge from the overgrown grass.

A wave of paranoia was upon him before he could register its coming. Was it written in Xatri's books that the creatures he feared could shape shift? Why was he suddenly unable to remember? It was dark, and he was alone swamped in negative emotions. Did they acquire enough power to reach so far from the Ruins?

 _They_ _can already get to Snowdin, however_ _rarely._

The question of how many existed still went unanswered. The skeleton wanted to believe there was only one. He seemed incapable of thinking it to be a lone entity. The familiar discomfort in his chest welcomed him to a new panic attack. He resisted, closing his eye sockets to block out the world and taking more than a few deep breaths.

His previous uncertainty fell into oblivion. Despite everything, he preferred facing this alone to having anyone see him in his current state. Papyrus wordlessly called to his friend's Determination. It held the faintest trace of the human, and the familiarity calmed him. He allowed his vision to return.

The rabbit was gone. Tiny embers of doubt sparked into existence as he began to wonder if he really _was_ losing his mind. A shriek tore through the silence, causing him to turn. How did it get behind him so quietly? The puddles should've made that an impossible feat.

It tilted its head, red gaze gleaming with curiosity. Glaring back at it, he created a skull. A sound much like roaring flooded the caverns. It carried with it much of his ire whilst radiating a brilliant green light. The sound lingered for a time before drawing to a close and the green glare dissipated with its holder.

The rabbit stood unaffected.

*You are filled with shock.

It shot forward with no warning and an incredible speed. Tiny holes appeared in his clothing as it climbed. His reflexes were not nearly quick enough. He felt his scarf jerk away from his "neck", spinning back around just in time to see the thief's retreating figure.

It was against his better judgment that he chose to follow. It was a scarf, just a black scrap of cloth that meant nothing to him. Yet he stubbornly refused to be bested by a rodent, however paranormal it was. Thankfully, conveniently, and strangely all at once, it stuck to the derelict trail.

Anger and Determination propelled him. His pursuit was a clumsy one. His target's swiftness protected it from being halted in its tracks. It vanished behind a corner, and he rushed onward with little thought or regard for the scenery. It diverted from his path to another, one that was nearly indiscernible. He chased through multiple abandoned caves, feeling he would soon have victory.

But scarcely had he realized that he was gaining on it, the rabbit sprinted faster, charging through a mass of shadowed foliage. He crashed through the plants with not the slightest concern for the rest of his clothes. So undivided was his focus, that he didn't see the rotted boards of the bridge.

The wood crumbled beneath his foot, and that around it followed suit, offering no hope of safety. A number of emotions flashed through him as he fell. He regretted his decision to go after the animal. He was enraged to have been so careless. Whilst the remaining light disappeared he feared what waited for him below.

There was an instant of pain before he knew nothing but darkness.

 **Yeah so that didn't work. Fear not, followers of the tale! I intend to continue updating until this story reaches its proper end. My brain just felt so overwhelmed after finishing the plot plans for the to-be novel that it would not let me write anymore. I think it's recovered somewhat. Which is great, 'cause November is upon us. Imma update as often as I can while trying Nano once again.**

 **PS: THANK YOU! This story has over THREE THOUSAND views! That's more views than any of my other stories has (as of writing this) and it's awesome! *hugs viewers* Now then... Maybe I should think about getting some sleep.**


	27. The Last Finale?

**And I'm back. Started this and was gonna finish, but Nano was dominating my attention more. And then I got behind. And failed. Miserably. *facepalms* Sorry I'm so bad at my multitasking, everyone!**

Chapter Twenty-six: The Last Finale?

The first thing he registered was the sound of bones breaking. What consciousness he'd gained left the skeleton, the blackness taking hold of his mind once again. There was no thought, and he was unconcerned with how much time went by. There was simply nothing. Oblivion.

Then the first sparks of _something_ reigned. He could not understand what this was, this presence which fought to leave the embrace of darkness. As it grew, he came to know that this wasn't right. He needed to escape these unseen clutches. He knew not of how that was to occur.

Concepts themselves didn't last long. He felt something, some emotion, but could not yet comprehend what it was or what it meant. He existed in a state of fear and confusion without realizing it for what could've been hours or mere minutes. It did not matter. Time was irrelevant to him. Reason at last flared to life, and it was brought to him by the unlikeliest of voices.

"Papyrus…."

Yes, he _was_ Papyrus. And he knew that voice all too well. It was one that had taught him to feel the most intense forms of anger. It was the voice that somehow brought entertainment to so many. It was the voice that conveyed arrogance and vanity when no one else was around to hear. It was a voice that he had trusted, and one that had lied to him.

What was she doing here?

A headache like none he'd ever experienced dominated his attention for a moment. He was dizzy, and unable yet to ask his question aloud. His arm felt simultaneously numb and alight. Pain shot through his spine at the faintest twitch. Silently cursing with all the colorful words he could remember, he began the process of mending his injuries.

The slight glow which encased him was nowhere near strong enough to give his surroundings illumination. His task was only half done when he needed to rest. The fog in his head cleared well enough, he reflected on the events that had led up to this.

 _I can't believe I was so thoughtless._

"P-Papyrus, you awake?"

The sound of dust piling on the ground echoed in the cavern, along with that of quick, ragged breaths. In the pitch-black, he wondered just what Alphys had been doing in this part of Waterfall. He decided to ask that when in one piece. It wasn't as though either of them was going anywhere.

"Hey! You're awake, aren't you? S-so quit ignoring me!" He heard a shifting to his left, and two reptilian eyes glowed pink. "I'm too amazing to ignore!"

"Oh, shut up already," he screamed, an act even he didn't expect. "I haven't the patience for this. And how did you even know I was down here?"

As he continued healing his injuries, she simply replied, "I could smell you, moron. How can you not know that by n-" she was interrupted by her own coughing.

Feeling better, though still exhausted, he ordered, "don't talk to me like that. I could leave you down here and find a way out myself."

"But you won't."

"You don't know that."

"We're family. You wouldn't leave here to die, Resets or not."

The Resets! This was the timeline they ended! A surge of fear overtook him, drawing Papyrus into a sitting position. Then at once he was unable to understand it. Perhaps exhaustion was muddling his mind. This flaring concern couldn't be aimed at _her_ well-being. No, why should it trouble him so much if she died?

And yet, his every instinct screamed at him to make sure she lived. It only grew more urgent the longer he waited. Her breathing was fainter than before, those few seconds of magic use having draining much of her energy. He tried to at least take a moment to properly compose himself only to find that this increasing feeling of panic refused to cease.

Giving up on that, and feeling the unknown stirring once again, he at last forced himself to stand. It was a somewhat painful walk to the lizard. His magic had only done so much. Thankfully he was able to make it there and begin. Leaning back against the stone wall, he began to heal the scaly monster.

With her glowing, it was easy to make out what injuries she'd obtained during her own fall. There were plenty of scrapes, but he guessed the biggest problem was internal. Of the dust surrounding her now still figure, the skeleton found that some of it streamed from her mouth with every exhale. He poured his energy into undoing whatever the threat was. As he did, barely a thought considered his actions.

*Act

*Check

 **Alphys 90 ATK 90 DEF 4/13000 HP**

 **The star of the Underground**

Three….

Fear fueled his efforts to fix whatever was wrong. Memories danced at the corners of his vision, images that were supposed to be meaningless to him. Why should he care so much? Why at all?

This was not his sister. It was an imitation of her. The real one disappeared long ago. So what if she turned to dust? Soon, monsterkind would be free from their prison. There were all sorts of interesting things to be found above. No one would have to rely on her deceiving voice to feel just a little better about life.

Two….

Sure there were doubts. There were many who believed his plan would fail.

 _But,_ he silently uttered with a terrified soul. _What if….. What if it doesn't fail?_

Embers of Determination burned brightly as they could, helping him go on despite being so tired. The unseen walls of the blackened cavern seemed to be falling, closing in, as the ground swayed violently beneath them. A different kind of darkness was stealing the air from around him. His lungs refused to fight for sustenance as these moments played out.

One….

OoOoOoOoOo

 _Oh, come on. Why not? It'll be fun._

 _Just…. Just because, okay?_

 _It's just an experiment, for now anyway._


	28. A Difficult Decision

Chapter twenty-seven: A Difficult Decision

Zero.

Why did this bother him so much? Why did he want to wait another two Resets? His soul writhed with protest when he thought of what that would do to his reputation. Papyrus nearly tripped once again in his wandering. It was slight, but he could sense he was moving uphill. He walked with no ounce of urgency, and had no desire to return. He wasn't supposed to care much for anyone. What would people think if-

There it was, that strange feeling he couldn't bring himself to understand. There would be time to think of all this later, he told himself. There was no need to fret about everything now. Now was the time to reach his abode without being seen in such a state. He was still injured. He needed to rest. Things would make sense after that. He wouldn't feel so strangely horrible about what had taken place.

OoOoOoOoOo

"Papyrus! Wh-what happened? Where the heck did you go?"

"Are you okay?"

"I thought I told you not to do that again!"

"I was…. Out for a walk," he told the distressed duo. "Eventually I wound up somewhere in Waterfall. There was a bridge, and it failed. Alphys fell sometime after me."

They'd followed him into the dinning room, brimming with concern. He felt nothing anymore, nothing but tiredness. It had been an exhausting trek. What he felt was a different type of weariness, however. There at the table he sat and his gaze fell upon a tiny collection of crumbs. Emotion sparked within him: Severe irritation. Since when did such an insignificant thing affect him so much? He swept them from the wooden surface. Out of sight, but not out of mind. He should sweep later. With this temporary solution, his "insides" became lifeless once more.

"Is she okay?"

"She's dead."

Sans stared as though not fully believing those words. Recovering immediately, the response was, "well, then, we'll just have to wait until the Reset after this one. Then we can all go see the surface together!"

"We're not waiting." He'd made up his mind on the way back. That which he feared was growing in power. They wouldn't be waiting. They _couldn't_. She wouldn't have waited if in his position, and he refused to extend such courtesy. It was only fair. It was the right thing to do. So why did saying that bring invisible claws to tighten their grip on his soul?

"What? What are you talking about? Of course we're waiting! We have to! She's our sister!"

He almost explained why they were leaving her behind. Would finally telling his brother the truth make it easier for Sans to accept the situation? Maybe, he thought for one meaningless moment, his childish sibling would understand. It was a short lived instant. No. The truth would be far worse than any story he could conjure. And why let his brother go on this long believing what he did, just to destroy it all?

"Alphys was selfish, but even she wouldn't want us to risk staying here. Those creatures are only getting stronger. The sooner we leave, the better."

"But-but-we can't-there's-no! Papyrus!"

He refused to listen, climbing the stairs as he thought. Tiredness dulled his mind more and more with each step. He battled silently against dizziness. Scenes played out that only he could see. Papyrus tried to convince himself of his own words. It was a vain endeavor, as he knew each syllable helped form an empty promise.

 _Why'd you let me die?_ Her voice questioned.

 _I didn't._

 _But you won't wait for the Reset. Isn't that the same thing?_

 _I thought I'd gotten rid of you!_

 _That's real funny._

 _Go away!_

 _Or what?_

The voice was certainly _not_ trying to help, as it had claimed. It had let him think he was alone in his mind. It had given him some form of peace, only to destroy that sense of solitude. Having this uninvited company return infuriated him. At the same time, he felt strangely relieved. He stood at his bedroom door, caught up in this internal conflict. He was arguing with himself again. No, wait. The voice wasn't him. It didn't sound like him. What _did_ it sound like?

Sleep. He needed sleep. At last entering his room, he stumbled over to the bed. The voice he heard distorted to the point of being indiscernible. The noises acted as a lullaby. Everything would make sense again after some rest. If he kept telling himself that, perhaps it would be true.

 _You don't want to leave her behind. So don't,_ his dreams whispered. But he refused to change his mind.


	29. Past and Present, but What is to Come?

**Here we are, the final chapter, I believe. Stuff's been distracting me again, two other writing projects among other things. There's a new poll on my profile to help deal with the updating issue. *points* So here it is. I hope it's not terrible and that you like the ending of this first installment.**

Chapter Twenty-eight: Past and Present, but What is to Come?

"You _what_?"

"I destroyed it. Now we _have to_ wait."

"Not if I get more."

"I'll find it and get rid of that too."

The brothers glared at each other from across the table, Frisk poking at her meal with not an ounce of attention for them. Sans had just announced that the plant had been delivered by a terrified lion monster, and that he had immediately burned it. Papyrus was infuriated, of course. The unclean kitchen also bothered him at the moment. What gnawed at his frayed nerves the most was the lack of hesitation his younger sibling showed.

 _Looks like you won't be able to intimidate him this time. He must really care about his sister._

His attempts were proving futile. Sans met his ireful gaze with one of pure Determination, refusing to back down. Papyrus' anger began to melt. He loathed to admit defeat, but there seemed to be no alternative. He found himself unable to argue any more for an outcome he would secretly dread. So preoccupied with the newest disaster, he barely noticed the odd stirring in his soul at last come to an end.

"Fine. We'll wait. But be on the lookout for those creatures, and Grill-"

His phone showed that Undyne was calling. There wasn't much point in ignoring it. He knew she'd call a thousand times before giving up. Literally. Unless he ended this now, she would continue pestering him. Picking up the annoyingly loud device, he accidentally bumped the fork sitting on his plate of uneaten omelet. The utensil fell to the floor with a metallic clatter. Retrieving it and the plate, he answered on his way to the kitchen.

"Didn't you read it yet? Come on, Papyrus! It's the best story I've written in forever! You _gotta_ read it. You won't get the chance to if we all die and stay that way when you break the barrier."

"We won't be leaving this timeline."

"Did something happen?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Does it matter? We're stuck here until it's taken care of," he responded in a growl-like tone.

His anger made well known, Undyne let the subject drop. "Well, will you at least _look_ at the story? You might like it."

"Not now."

 _Why not? Do you have other plans you haven't told me about?_

 _Shut up._

OoOoOoOoOo

With footsteps quiet as the night they stalked through, predators hunted weakened prey. The trees had shed their flame colored leaves, their branches appearing like a mass of tangled claws. Shreds of soft light lay wavering among the shadows. Wind could only do so much to cut through the clouds. The starving creatures were nearly upon their next meal.

Their prey slept huddled together beneath stolen pelts. Once allies, hunger now drove one race to hunt the other. The humans' fire now existed as a pile of dying embers. Their guard had given in to exhaustion, making this an easy task.

OoOoOoOoOo

As the day went on, Papyrus grew more and more uneasy. Nothing could distract him from the feeling very long. This strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation refused to leave him. He'd be lost in an interesting scene in a movie or show, reading a mildly entertaining page in a book, or tapping the mouse of Sans' computer trying to win a game. None could protect his worried mind.

But nothing seemed to be amiss. And that's what made this all the more troubling.

It wasn't even noon yet. Snow drifted from the clouds above Snowdin. With one last glare at him, Sans had left for the day. Frisk departed afterward to visit Asriel and Toriel. The solitude he didn't find so unpleasant with the voice to speak with. Yet he hated its presence even more now because of that.

 _What's wrong?_

 _You know what's wrong. Something's off._

 _Seems pretty normal to me._

 _Normal doesn't exist for us._

 _Sure you're planning to break out, but other than that-_

 _This_ isn't _normal! Something's different._

 _Are you sure? Different doesn't happen around here too often._

 _Have you not been paying attention or are you simply_ trying _to be irritating?_

 _It's true that some things have changed, but at the moment-_

At the moment _there's something else, something entirely new, I just-_

 _What?_

 _I don't know yet._

 _Then perhaps you should try to find out._

He stood and exited his brother's messy room. The descent to the ground floor was made with an unusual amount of observation. He saw the scrapes in the railing, and knew the story behind each one. He knew exactly which step would squeak, and remembered the stain on the corner of the rug he now left behind.

Oh the countless times he'd woken up to Sans' version of music playing in this very room. He remembered the hole in the couch cushion, and even flipping it over so no one else would see. How many timelines had passed since that day? He glanced toward the dining room on his way to the door, thinking of all the wondrous gourmet foods he once prepared with such glee.

He didn't know exactly where he was going. Papyrus had not a clue as to where he would find the source of this disturbance. Was he somehow being lead? Or was this an aimless walk? Whatever the case, he again saw everything he would not usually bother to notice. This time however, felt different.

Different was happening.

Just as before, he didn't like not knowing what came next.

OoOoOoOoOo

Winter ended. Food became plentiful once again. Centuries would come to pass. The humans would not forget. One day, arrows rained down upon the monster kingdom. It mattered not to the beings that they had eaten one another. They cared not that monsterkind would've faded from history. Most of who they now killed had not yet been been born at the time of Earth's coldest winter.

The humans only knew that these creatures could be dangerous, and what they were unable to control must be destroyed. They had power now. With that power, they would fight. And they would win. Not every monster would be turned to dust. They were sealed underground, beneath the other race's feet.

"You will spend eternity where you belong! Beneath us!"

OoOoOoOoOo

He'd been away for far too long. Papyrus had turned his phone off to end the Temmies' bothersome interruptions. That meant of course that Frisk or Sans if either needed to call, couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to return, not yet. His anxiety had only worsened over the hours.

At last booting up the device, he found that there were fifty-eight missed calls from those deceitful creatures. One text from Undyne. Sitting on a tree stump somewhere in the forest, he reluctantly selected the message.

 _It's called "A Tale of Insanity"_

 _You'll like it! Go read!_

The snow fell heavily now. He heard footsteps in the distance breaking the silence. Why did that simple noise spark fear within his soul? Returning his phone to his pocket, he walked in the opposite direction. He expected the voice to say something. He waited. No comment came. The skeletal monster realized with some degree of annoyance that he wanted the voice to speak up. An eeriness filled the air that made him long for the company of another, and he worried that the creatures had found him.

Could they reach here so soon? Was it true that they'd caught up to him? Their footsteps wouldn't make a sound. Or maybe that's just what they wanted him to think. The ground seemed to shift, causing him to lose his balance as _something_ ran towards him. He readied a magical attack, doing all he could to keep his breathing under control.

Out from behind the steady curtain of white appeared Frisk. She appeared more afraid than he'd ever seen her, dark blue eyes filled with terror. Papyrus renewed his efforts to stay calm, getting to his feet as the human neared him.

"What happened?"

She didn't speak.

"Frisk? What happened? Did something attack you?"

Papyrus felt drained all of a sudden. The human shook her head, one hand in the satchel she rarely used. She'd taken it with her to Toriel's to play a board game with the flower. He wondered in the back of his mind what she was doing here if she was supposed to be in the Ruins. Frisk made several attempts at speech before her voice didn't fail. He mentally questioned what had happened to make her act this way.

"N-no, I just…. I was just looking for y-you. E-everything…. Everything was fine and-and then I…."

Letting the magical swords dissipate, he could only reach one conclusion: his human friend had suffered a panic attack. He noted that she continued concealing her hand in the bag. She must've injured herself, he reasoned, and decided to do something extremely uncharacteristic. He approached Frisk, who reminded him so much of his past self. Her heart was pounding, he knew. He could hear it faintly.

The skeleton knelt and hugged what was declared monsterkind's enemy. He'd learned long ago not to show much emotion. Any but anger was weakness, and after a time, he found life was easier without that. Especially when you had no friends to aid you, no one to come to your defense.

"Everything will be fine. Calm down. In just two more Resets, we'll be out of here."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm going to make sure of it." The words felt hollow.

"But Papyrus…."

A sharp pain exploded throughout his back. His HP began to fall. Papyrus remained still, staring at nothing. He was unable to comprehend what had taken place. It wasn't long though before everything clicked. The uncomfortable feeling in his soul, her strange behavior, and all those calls he refused to answer.

 _But…. Why? Why,_ his hysterical thoughts lamented. _WHY?_

"You _can't_ be sure." Her voice radiated composure.

Inside the satchel, something began to glow red. The light was barely noticed. He let the mental image of an upside-down heart-a representation of his health- shatter into uncountable fragments.

"After all….

.

.

.

.

"Since when were _you_ the one in control?"


End file.
